Once Upon a Time at Hogwarts
by 2NiCe4U
Summary: Once upon a time, things went pear-shaped in the potions classroom. How many Happily Ever Afters can the Potions Master get through without going postal? At least he has a know-it-all side-kick to help him.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, but I really like to play around with them in my stories.

Sorry for how long it's taken me to update my stories! I've been in a transitional period, which has included graduating, job hunting, job finding, and loads of stress. Still, that is no excuse for leaving my readers disappointed, and so I'm posting something I've been working on for quite a while and vowed not to post it until I had finished it. That way, you will be partially satisfied. Then, I will get on with the stories that I've severely neglected.

I've wanted to do a story like this for a long time, in which the characters get sucked into various fairy tales for my, and of course your, amusement. I don't know exactly how plausible my idea for how they end up in the fairy tale stories is, but we can allow for a little suspension of disbelief. Magic is magic and therefore unexplainable at times. Reviews are much appreciated and anticipated!

Once Upon a Time at Hogwarts

Prologue

Professor Severus Snape prowled around the classroom, his heavy black robes billowing in a way that would be distracting, if not for the fact that he was teaching the Seventh Years. They were used to his dramatics by now.

This year's Seventh Years consisted of two classes, the first for those who were supposed to be in their Seventh Year, and the second for the students whose final year was disrupted by the Second Voldemort War, as it was aptly named. Snape was currently teaching the latter class, a group he now tolerated, for the most part, now that the tensions of war had left his shoulders. He still had a policy of being strict and having no patience for dunderheads, though.

Surviving the war was a close thing for the professor. He'd been on the brink of death, thanks to Voldemort's not-so-little pet, Nagini. Luckily, he'd had some specialized antivenin he'd been working on, but it could only help so much. There was quite a bit of blood. He'd passed out as it slowly coagulated on his wounds, thanks to the potion, and had woken feeling like a different man in the hospital a week later. Only Minerva McGonagall knew that Albus Dumbledore had visited with him during that lapse of time. He no longer carried the burden of guilt and anger that had poisoned his past.

As for whom had found him in his state, he grudgingly owed a life-debt to none other than Neville Longbottom, as the boy had happened upon him right after killing the snake with the sword of Gryffindor.

"Now, I want you all to be careful with what you put in as your choice item for the potion. It should be something relatively simple, as this potion is used for enhancing. That means no paintings, no books, and … no body parts, Mr. Weasley." This last part caused the Slytherins to chuckle as Ron glared mutinously into his cauldron. Snape smirked in satisfaction at his encouraging audience, as he bashed the Gryffindors. It was just too easy. "No plants either, Longbottom. That would disrupt the chemistry of the mixture. I hope you all have given at least a modicum of thought as to what you would bring today. If you are ill-prepared, and have to resort to something mundane, such as an old quill, five house points will be docked off, as well as twenty from the assignment. You will also write a fully comprehensive essay with regards to this potion, as you obviously didn't read thoroughly enough to be competent of the assignment. The true lesson I hope to teach you by the end of this year is that you should always be prepared before stepping into a potions laboratory."

Snape observed as they put their items in, making sure that everything was safe. Close by, Longbottom put an old quill into his potion and pulled out a brand-new looking peacock feather quill. He tremulously smiled, no doubt because he had actually gotten a potion right for once. Miss Patil was putting an old ragged doll in, and pulled out what seemed to be its fully restored version with a smile. Potter chose to put his glasses in. It was a wonder how many times they had been fixed in the last year. He pulled out a shiny pair that was metal framed, a big change from the easily breakable wooden ones he'd had before. He tried them on and grinned. Miss Granger smiled at him, pulling out an exquisite pair of Unicorn bookends. Snape wondered what they had looked like before their transformation.

To the left side of the class, he observed as Goyle threw in a pair of brownish holey socks and scoffed under his breath. Out of all the things he could have picked …

Crabbe was at least slightly smarter, pulling out a good as new pair of shoes. No doubt they were quite worn before their transformation. He smirked as Malfoy pulled out pieces of his old wizarding chess set. That was certainly a clever use for the potion.

Snape continued to pace the classroom, and everything seemed to be in order. He scanned all the students, and his gaze landed on Miss Brown, covertly slipping something into her cauldron. She was grinning and waiting for the allotted time before she would pull it out.

"Miss Brown," He barked, and she sat up rigidly in habit, gazing at him. "What did you put into the potion?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but her attention, as well as that of everyone else, diverted to her potion, which gave a loud belch before it started to spew a noxious yellow fog.

"Miss Brown!" He repeated, striding quickly to her and pulling her out of the way of the fumes. "What did you put in there?"

She looked up at him, clearly intimidated by his stormy expression, but stuttered out an answer. "M-mum's old Muggle fairy tale book …" She then promptly fainted. Snape cursed and bent to her side to make sure she was still breathing. It seemed as though she were in an induced coma. He stood up quickly, covering his nose and mouth with his robes, not sure what the fog would do once inhaled.

"Everyone evacuate the classroom immediately!" It was no use, as half of the class had already fainted. Keeping his robes over his nose and mouth, he used his wand to levitate the book out from the potion. It looked quite innocuous, if a bit more glitzy than most book covers, but he started to sway, his vision blurring.

"Professor Snape?"He looked down to see Miss Granger at his side, grasping his elbow to steady him. His concentration broke and the book fell into his hands.

"Bloody Hell," He muttered, before succumbing to the haze.

A/N: And so we begin. Please remember to review!


	2. Rapunzel

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the original fairy tale story this is based on.

Let the fun begin!

Once Upon a Time at Hogwarts

Rapunzel

Hermione rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stared up at the canopy of her four-poster bed. Ugh. What day was it? She couldn't quite remember. Habitually, she reached for the color coded schedule on her bedside table, only to find nothing but air. Huh? She turned her head to look where it might have gone, and found that she was not in the girls dorms at all.

She swiftly sat up, gazing around at the circular stone room she was in, one she'd never even been to before. Most peculiar about it was that there were no doors, just a window. Was it a dream?

She got off the bed, only to realize that she was standing on … hair? Eugh! And there was lots of it, brown bushy curls all over the floor! Lifting her hands to her own hair, which should have stopped halfway down her back, she found that it went on for what seemed like forever. What a weird dream! Hermione shrugged to herself and slung a bit of it over her arm, so that her hair didn't feel as though it was being pulled from her head as she made her way across the room. Reaching the window, she looked out to see a small clearing at the base of the tower, and then forest as far as the eye could see in every other direction. Surely the Forbidden forest wasn't that big, and where was the lake? Hogsmeade?

Hermione pinched herself nice and hard, wanting to wake from this strange dream. All she ended up with was a sore spot on her arm, and the realization that she wasn't dreaming.

Breathing deep to avoid hyperventilating, she thought over what she remembered last. Breakfast in the Great Hall, Potions … She then remembered the incident involving Lavender. What the hell had happened? Well, whatever it was, Hermione needed to figure it out and get out of it. She started pacing the room, making sure to lift her feet so she didn't trip on her own abundant hair. This was ridiculous.

Before she could think of any plan besides finding some garden shears for her hair, she heard someone shrieking in a whiney voice, "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!"

In her rush to the window, Hermione tripped and landed in her hair on the way. She pulled herself up and peered out, only to see what looked like Pansy Parkinson in purple robes and a spiky black witch's hat. "Parkinson? What's going on? Where are we? And why are you calling me Rapunzel?"

The pug-faced witch rolled her eyes. "Always with the annoying questions," she muttered to herself, "Did you trip on your hair and hit your head again? How many times do I have to tell you that bloody story? Let me up and I'll show you, ungrateful wretch."

Hermione looked around the circular room, but there wasn't much. "Don't you have a ladder or something?"

Pansy scowled, "I have a rope made of hair, now throw it down or no story time! I'm already frustrated enough that I'll have to wash that mane tonight!"

Hermione didn't like how pushy the other witch was being, but she really wanted to know what was going on. She looked around and found a hook next to the window. She twisted part of her hair and wrapped it around the hook, then dropped the three armfuls of hair left out the window. Soon enough, Pansy came crawling over it. "Had a lot of practice at that, have you?" Hermione jabbed.

"You have no idea." Pansy helped Hermione heave up the hair from the window and then they both sat down with a huff from all the labor. She glared over at Hermione, "I'm too bloody tired to tell you the long story of how you ended up here again, so I'll just show you." With that, she unlocked a cabinet and pulled out a bowl filled with silvery liquid.

"A pensieve!" Hermione exclaimed. She'd never used one before, and was excited to experience it for the first time. But why did Pansy have one?

"Yes, yes, just stick your finger in it," Pansy grumbled after adding a few strands of silver memories from her head.

Hermione did as told, and felt her vision swirl before her eyes. Blinking them, she found herself standing in a one-room cottage with a small window. It wasn't quite where she expected to get her answer.

"What's up with the architecture around here? Don't people get claustrophobic?" She muttered to herself.

Before she could further explore the cottage, the door burst open, revealing Lavender and Ron. They were cuddled up close to each other and Hermione could tell they had particular feelings for each other.

"Ooh!" Lavender squealed and jumped, as Ron had clearly pinched her in the bum. "Not right now, Won Won. I'm hungry, especially since I'm eating for two now." Ron tenderly gazed on as she rubbed her belly. She headed towards a box in the corner and scrounged around. "It looks like it will be potatoes again tonight." Sighing, she turned and looked out the window. "If only we could borrow a few things from the garden. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

Ron came up behind her, looking sober. "You know what my Mum said about that place. Word is, the Enchantress is no merciful woman. We'd be safer waiting 'til Farmers Market on Friday."

Lavender sighed, "But they don't have the stuff I want. It's always just more potatoes or carrots or leeks."

Trying to cheer her up, Ron rubbed her shoulders, "I happen to like just potatoes or carrots or leeks, especially made by you." Lavender smiled, but Hermione could tell her heart wasn't in it. She still gazed longingly out the window.

Hermione peeked out the window and saw that the cottage was set on a hillside. Down below, in perfect view, was a beautiful garden, fenced in by a great stone wall. It did look quite brilliant.

She looked back over to where Ron and Lavender were now sharing a dinner of boiled potatoes. Lavender looked sad and pale, picking at her food, and Ron kept glancing worriedly at her. She sighed and sat back, pushing the plate away. "I'll surely die if I don't get to eat something from that garden!"

Ron, looking startled, asked, "Are you sure that's what you want? It might cost more than worth paying for, if I'm caught."

"Yes! Anything to have something different to eat!"

Ron nodded, though he looked a bit grave. Lavender didn't notice, too happy that she would finally be getting her way.

Hermione followed Ron as he set off down the hill, the sun down, and darkness settling in. He struggled to climb over the high wall of the garden. Hermione stared for a bit before walking through the wall. She watched as Ron plucked some greens from a nearby bed and stuffed them in the bag he had hanging around his neck before climbing back up the wall.

Soon enough, they were back at the cottage. "Oh Ron," Lavender exclaimed, "I absolutely love you!" Ron flushed as she kissed him all over his face before plucking the greens from his hand and making a nice salad which she thoroughly enjoyed.

Everything swirled again, and Hermione blinked as she saw the now familiar sight of Lavender gazing longingly out the window into the garden. Ron came in from the front door and saw her. He sighed. "Hello, love."

"Won Won!" Lavender turned around, her face brightening. "Could you be a dear and get some more of that stuff? This time try to bring back a larger amount. It might last us longer!" Ron couldn't say no to her wide grin and the promise that she would return the favor in some other way.

Hermione waited in the garden as Ron once again struggled to climb over. Just as he stood from plucking some of the greens, an enraged shriek sounded throughout the garden.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!"

Ron straightened like a board and fell down, face first, into the veggies.

"How dare you steal things from my garden, you pesky little rodent! I'll turn you into fertilizer!" Pansy stalked towards the human board and turned him over. "Say, aren't you one of the neighbors?" All he could do was move his eyes around, so she released him from the spell.

"Bloody Hell," he cursed, rubbing his nose. He saw Pansy brandish her wand again and scuttled back. "I was only getting it for my wife. She sees your garden every day, and told me she would die if she didn't eat something from here."

Pansy huffed, "Yes, the garden is very nice. Good job, Neville!" The lanky young man waved from where he stood behind some bushes, surreptitiously watching the events take place as he pulled weeds. Pansy smirked, "He is under servitude, for trying to steal something of mine as well. Shall I sentence you to the same?"

Ron cringed. Servitude wasn't his thing. "Oh, please, no."

"Then you must give me your firstborn child. I will take good care of her, and you and your wife can take sparingly from my garden. Do we have a deal?" Ron sweated and hem-hawed for a few minutes before shaking her hand on it. It wasn't as if they hadn't planned to have more than one child anyway. This would just be a minor setback. Pansy smirked. "You may leave now. I'll come collect my dues when the time is right. Oh, and you have a bit of dirt on your nose, did you know?"

Everything swirled again, and Hermione could suddenly hear the squalling of a baby. She looked down at the reddish-purple thing in Lavender's arms, a bit disgusted. "Lavender gave birth to me? Now that's disturbing."

True, it wasn't real life, but it wasn't something Hermione ever wanted to imagine. She was almost glad when Pansy plucked her baby-self out of Lavender's arms.

Hermione blinked and removed her finger from the pensieve. She turned to see that Pansy had already started washing some of her hair. It took a while, as she had enough to fill the tub in the tower four times over. Hermione didn't even want to think about the brushing aspect of it. As they worked together (surprisingly without too much bickering) Hermione thought about all that had happened. Obviously Pansy was playing some part in this fairy tale, and didn't know anything different at the moment. She sure wouldn't be washing Hermione's hair if she did! Hermione was only glad she wasn't mindlessly fulfilling a role as well, but what if this was because it was all in her own mind? She had seen others fainting before she had reached the Professor to help him. She might be experiencing the fairy tales in just the same or similar way that all her classmates were. The biggest questions at this point where what would happen once this story was at an end, and if she would ever get out? She had NEWT's to take in three months time for Merlin's sake!

The next morning found Hermione humming while braiding her hair. She was almost finished, when she heard Pansy call up, "Rapunzel, let down your hair! Hurry up, brat!" Hermione complied with a sniff, and Pansy was up in the tower. She sifted through a few drawers and pulled out a few things before climbing back down her hair. Hermione sighed and pulled the unfinished braid up, starting on it again as she hummed. Not five minutes later, she heard again, "Rapunzel, let down your hair!"

Grumbling, she tossed it out without a look and waited with folded arms and a sour attitude. She did not like being used like this. Her sour expression quickly turned to shock when she saw who climbed in. "Professor Snape! What are you doing here?"

The man growled and stalked over to where she sat, staring at him. "Thank Merlin you're lucid. Everyone else I've met has been in some kind of hallucination, calling me a prince and kissing the ground I walk on. It seems Miss Brown had a hard time listening to directions. We are now all stuck in some stupid fairy tale story book for who knows how long! And I have to wear these!" He pulled uncomfortably at his white breaches. Hermione stifled a chuckle.

"Well, at least you're not wearing this. Corsets are overrated." Hermione motioned to her form-constricting dress. Severus eyed the rose-colored dress with distaste, but nodded. "Anyways, I'm glad to see that someone here is in their right mind. Parkinson keeps calling me Rapunzel, and I don't have a wand to get myself out of here, while she does. You wouldn't happen to have yours, would you?"

"Regrettably no. I'll go find a rope to get you out of here. Maybe some garden shears," He replied, looking over her braid. Hermione nodded and watched as he crawled back over the window and down her hair. She rushed over to the window and watched, amused, as he rode off on a white stallion. She could tell from the top of the tower that he was uncomfortable.

Later on, Pansy crawled up through the window.

Hermione smirked. "Guess who you missed." Pansy raised an eyebrow. "Professor Snape, or should I say Prince Snape? He's way faster at climbing my hair than you, by the way."

Pansy growled, "A Prince? Crap. Now he's going to try and be the hero, by saving you from the big bad witch, eh? We'll just see about that." She cackled, and before Hermione could say or do anything, Pansy aimed her wand at her braid.

"_Sectumsempra_!"

Hermione gasped and felt at her hair, which was now cut a little higher than shoulder-length. It fluffed out around her face in a bushy nimbus, now that it didn't have the extra weight of the excess hair to pull it down. "Did you have to be so rough? That could have been my neck!"

Pansy scoffed, but then smirked. She wound the braid of Hermione's severed hair around the hook and pointed to it.

"Out, before I really do some damage to you." Hermione gulped as the witch brandished her wand and complied, climbing down the thick, wavy hair. She thought that, all-in-all, it was better that she was Rapunzel. It would have been ten times harder climbing down using Professor Snape's hair.

Once down in the clearing, she looked up to the window. Pansy was leaning out. "I told you to get out of my sight, now go!" With a cackle, she blasted the ground a few feet away from Hermione as a warning. She needed no more motivation to get herself into the Forbidden forest.

After traveling a bit, she realized that Professor Snape would be returning to the tower. "Crap." Hermione turned and went back the way she came, not sure how long it would take her to get back. She called out for good measure. "Professor! Professor Snape!"

After a while, she heard a faint sound, and rushed towards it. It sounded like pained groans. Hermione put on more speed, and was soon standing breathless once again in the clearing where the tower was. She turned to where the noise emanated and, to her horror, saw Professor Snape caught in some Devil's Snare at the base of the tower. She rushed over, but he didn't notice, as he was rubbing his eyes, which were red and puffy.

"Professor Snape! Are you alright?" She gasped, struggling to breath from running in a corset. He stopped struggling against the plant as much, but kept rubbing his eyes.

"Miss Granger," His voice sounded choked, "I'm very allergic to Devil's Snare, and can't _see_! Of course I'm not alright, you insufferable know-it-all!"

Hermione was determined not to take offence." I'll get you out soon, Professor." With that, she reached out and took hold of one of his arms. He turned blindly in her direction and she grabbed the other arm. Between the two of them, and the lucky fact that he had on a pair of tight breaches instead of billowing robes, he was able to get free from the cantankerous plant.

He felt around before gripping her hand. "Thanks Miss Granger," he said rather gruffly.

"No problem, now how are we going to deal with your seeing dilemma?" Just after she said that, she heard a tinkling cry from above and looked up. "Fawkes!"

The phoenix landed lightly on Severus' shoulder. He tilted his head back and the bird cried its healing tears upon his eyes. He sighed in relief and blinked them open, scratching the bird on the neck, which it seemed to enjoy.

"Thanks, my friend." He looked up to see Hermione grinning at him and scowled. "I'm going to take fifty points from Miss Parkinson for assaulting her teacher when we get back, even if she wasn't in her right mind and had to do it for the story's sake."

Hermione chuckled, "Well, at least we're not going to have twins together, like in the original version."

Severus's scowl deepened.

Hermione smirked, but her vision grew hazy and she fainted.

A/N: This was taken from the original story of Rapunzel, by the Grimm Brothers. Hope you enjoyed it! Please review!


	3. Bluebeard

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the original fairy tale.

Once Upon a Time at Hogwarts

Bluebeard

Hermione opened her eyes and sat up, hoping she'd be back in her dormitory at Hogwarts.

"Well, it's better than a prison cell hundreds of feet above the ground," she muttered to herself as she looked around. Everything seemed to be covered in finery, from the elaborate draperies to the golden candelabras. Dashing to the beautiful vanity mirror, she saw that she at least looked normal, if wearing some overly lavish sleepwear. She also noted once again the lack of wand. It frustrated her to be at the mercy of a book.

Just as she started admiring the trinkets on the mantle of a handsome fireplace, the door opened.

"I hope you are doing well today, my sweet," Draco Malfoy greeted her, walking over and kissing her cheek. Hermione flinched back and stared at him.

"'My sweet'? And why do you have facial hair? I thought Malfoys couldn't grow beards."

Draco chuckled at this. "I hope you have not forgotten that we are married." He stroked his beard, "Do you not like it? I think it adds a bit of mystery."

Hermione scowled. First, she's given birth to by Lavender, and now married to Malfoy? What was next? Hermione really didn't want to know.

"The only mystery is how it ever became blue! Did somebody hex you?"

Draco's face darkened at this. He turned away, and, with a stilted tone, said, "Let's not talk about that right now. I came to inform you that I have to go to London for a few days. I have some… business to take care of. You may invite some friends over, and do whatever you wish, as you are now mistress of the Malfoy Estate. Here are the keys." He lifted one of the keys away from the others. It was a silvery-blue color, and smaller than most of the others. "This one you may not use. It goes to the closet at the end of the hall on the ground floor. If you don't obey me on this, my dear, you _will_ be punished."

Hermione raised her eyebrow at this, but took the keys from him. He kissed her on the cheek once again (to her disgust) and left.

Hermione found a desk with parchment and quills on it, a convenient owl perched nearby. She sat and wrote a letter to Ron and Harry, asking if they could visit her and sighed as she watched the owl fly out of her window.

She didn't know which fairy tale she was in yet. How she wished for things to be normal! Maybe Professor Snape would show up soon.

Not a minute later, she heard a whoosh, and saw that the fire in her fireplace had turned green. Parvati walked out of it. "Hey Hermione," She looked around, "where has Bluebeard Malfoy gone?"

Hermione smirked at the name, "Off to London. He said to invite some friends over."

Parvati clapped and dashed back over to the fireplace. Soon Neville, Dean, Seamus and Lavender were wandering out of the fireplace, and all six of them toured the mansion. Everything was beautiful, if a bit overdone, but Hermione knew that in real life, even if Draco Malfoy had such a nice place, she still wouldn't marry him. She smirked as Lavender and Parvati drooled over everything, and even the boys were impressed with his autographed Snitch collection.

Later that night, they all enjoyed a feast made by the house elves. Hermione was disappointed to see how many the Malfoys owned, and decided it was the first thing she'd talk to Malfoy about when he got home. She made sure to politely thank each one of them afterwards, and they all shyly bowed and smiled. Everyone was having a great time, and it helped that Malfoy wasn't there.

The owl returned with a reply, just after the last of her guests left.

_Dear 'Mione,_

_We would love to take a break from the grueling work of Auror training and eat all of Ferret's food with you tomorrow. I don't know when we'll be able to visit, but we'll try our best to make it there for lunch. Harry says he managed to beat Tonks in a practice duel today. _

_Love, Ron_

Hermione chuckled at the briefness of the note. She was happy that she'd see them soon, even if it was within the bounds of this fairy tale book madness. As it was nearly nine, and she was not tired, she headed for the library on the ground floor. It was only when she reached the door to it that she noticed the closet door at the end of the hall. It looked inconspicuous enough. Hermione might never have noticed it before Malfoy warned her.

She sighed. Now she was curious. He told her she'd be punished if she opened the door. He'd also told her she could do anything she wanted, and how contradicting was that? If he didn't want her snooping around, he shouldn't have told her not to go there, and definitely shouldn't have given her the key afterwards! Besides, how would he know she had looked in there anyways? He was halfway across Great Britain by now.

By the time Hermione walked up to the closet door, she had almost convinced herself he secretly wanted her to open the door. He gave her the means to do it, so why not? She took out the ring of keys and shuffled through them for the small silvery-blue one. It twinkled innocently. Shrugging, she stuck it in the key hole. She flinched cautiously as she turned the key, the sound of the latch echoing down the empty hallway. Hermione turned the knob and hesitantly opened it to look inside. She gasped.

Bodies. Inside the room were stiff corpses, horror etched forever upon their faces. They all hung on the walls of the room, held up by ropes and hooks. Hermione trembled and stumbled back. The closet door shut on its own and she dropped to the floor, dry heaving.

When she had regained some composure, she grabbed the ring of keys and scuttled into the library, where she curled into one of the armchairs. She knew that every big house had skeletons in its closets, but she didn't think literally! How would she ever be able to act normal in front of Malfoy again? She looked down at the keys in her hand, searching for the silvery-blue one. She couldn't find it.

Frantic, she closely examined each one, until she found the one she was looking for. It was not blue anymore though. It had turned a sickly green, a color that tugged at certain memories. Hermione stared at it in horror. It was the color of the _Avada Kedavra_ spell. She thought back on the contents of the closet. From what she had seen, they had all been females. Could they possibly be former wives of the Malfoys? She shuddered.

Taking the key, she went to her bathroom and tried washing and scrubbing it, but it didn't change back into its original color. Hermione sat on her bed and fretted. Her only comfort was that Ron and Harry were visiting the next day. They would know how to fix this. She lay on her bed, but didn't sleep until the early hours of the morning, and, even then, fitfully.

Hermione jolted awake and looked around, noticing how bright it was outside. That wasn't what woke her though.

"Hermione, my sweet! Where are you?" The voice she least wished to hear called from the entrance hall. Hermione, frantic and unprepared, could think of nothing better than hiding the discolored key. She stuffed it into one of the drawers of her writing desk and rushed out the room to greet her husband and murderer. There was no time to think of acting.

Malfoy kissed her on the cheek and pulled her close, smirking, "I found out I wasn't needed in London after all. The idiots sorted themselves out before I even got there. Of course, knowing that I would be going to check on them did spur them on to do things correctly for once."

Hermione tried to smile, but it wasn't working. Malfoy noticed.

"Are you alright?"

Hermione nodded, saying, "I just haven't eaten breakfast. That's all."

Malfoy smirked again, "I'll just call a house elf then. We could even try breakfast in bed. Now, Hermione, where are my keys?"

Hermione paled, not knowing which thought horrified her more: breakfast in bed with Malfoy, or giving him the keys with one noticeably missing.

"Ah, here they are," she handed the ring of keys over to him. "I'll go see about getting breakfast ready." She turned to go.

"Not so fast, Hermione," Draco called after her. She hesitantly turned around. "Where is the little blue key I gave you?"

"It must be in my room," Hermione attempted to smile at him before dashing to her room, pulling out the key from the writing desk drawer, and scrubbing it as hard as she could in her bathroom sink. Before long, it was snatched from her hands by an impatient and enraged Draco Malfoy.

"Why is the key green?" He glared at her.

"I don't know, a fungus?" Hermione knew it was a weak excuse.

"A fungus? No, you'll not try to pull one over on me! The only way this key would turn this color is if you had looked into the closet! Since you were so curious, I think I'll let you keep them company!" Hermione stumbled and fell to the ground in her haste to back away from him. She couldn't help but feel terrified, even if it was the Ferret. He pulled out his wand.

"Please! Just give me a little more time!" Hermione pleaded.

"Thirty minutes," Malfoy scowled, before stalking off to the library.

Hermione ran straight to her fireplace and called to Parvati, who arrived promptly. She told her what was going on. They knew that Hermione could not escape from Malfoy Manor. She had tried the Floo already but it seemed she was blocked from using it.

"The only thing we can do is hope that Ron and Harry come soon." Hermione looked out the window. It looked to be close to lunchtime. "Parvati, could you go to the roof and keep an eye out for them? When you see them, send a signal, and they'll arrive faster."

Parvati nodded, "Of course." She went to the window and climbed onto the roof from there.

Hermione, anxious at the prospect of dying, not even knowing how it would affect her in real life, couldn't help asking every other minute whether Parvati could see her two friends.

"For the thousandth time, Hermione, no, I don't see them. There's not even a speck or two on the horizon."

Hermione took to pacing, trying to think of a way to overcome Malfoy before he managed to cast the killing curse on her. It was pretty hard, when she didn't have a wand to fight back with. What was with all these dumb fairy tales with helpless women?

By the time her thirty minutes were up, all Hermione could think to do was to beg for more time.

Malfoy walked into the room. He stood in the door way, sneering at her. "Your time's up, woman."

Hermione tried her most pitiful face on, "Just five minutes more?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Does it really matter? You're going to die anyway, no matter if it's in five minutes or fifty years."

Hermione glared at him, "I'd rather die of natural causes, thank you, now wait another five bloody minutes!" She slammed the door in his face and locked it. It didn't really matter though. He had the keys and a wand to undo the latch if he wanted to. She heard him chuckle behind the door and walk away. She couldn't stop herself from breathing a sigh of relief.

"Parvati? Any sign of them?"

"None yet, I'm afraid."

She used the next few minutes to push her dresser in front of the door.

"Time's up," Malfoy's muffled voice sounded through the door.

"Two minutes! I need to use the bathroom!"

Hermione dashed over to the window, "See them yet?"

"Oooh! I see something!"

"Yes?"

"Dang, it's just some cows."

"Oh."

A knocking on the door startled her. "Hermione, I'm growing very impatient."

"Just one minute more and I promise you can kill me!" Hermione winced. Coming out, that didn't sound right.

"Parvati?" She didn't dare say more.

"Oh! I see them! I really see them this time! They're riding on brooms, about a mile and a half away!"

"Signal to them! Quick!"

A blasting sound came from the door, and the dresser buckled and splintered along with the door it tried to hold closed. Both were shoved aside with a spell, and an angry looking Draco Malfoy entered.

"I've had enough of your games, Mudblood." He advanced on her and she stumbled on some of the wreckage, falling down. He grabbed her hair. "Look at me. I want to see your face when you die." He sneered, pointing his wand at her, "_Avada Ked_ …"

"_Expelliarmus_!" Malfoy's wand flew across the room and disappeared among the splintered wood littering the ground. He was then tackled by a red-headed blur, which turned out to be Ron Weasley, still on his broom. Currently he was dismounting from it as he held the front of Malfoy's shirt with one hand. The blonde whimpered.

"Not so tough now, are you, Ferret? I'm about to show you what happens to a bloke who tries to off one's friend!" With that, Ron started punching.

Harry rushed over to Hermione, wand still trained on the bloodied up wizard. "You ok, Hermione?"

Hermione looked up at his worried face and fainted.

A/N: I used Charles Perrault's original version of Bluebeard for this story. Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!


	4. Hansel and Gretel

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or original fairy tale.

A/N: If you were wondering why Hermione fainted, it was because she was being sucked into another fairy tale, not because the sight of Harry Potter horrified her (though that might work for Snape. Lol).

Once Upon a Time at Hogwarts

Hansel and Gretel

Hermione groaned and reached under her to remove the object digging into her back. She opened her eyes groggily to see that it was a rock. Blinking, she sat up, observing the ferns and trees scattered around, illuminated slightly by the moonlight.

"Good evening, Miss Granger."

She whipped her head around to see her potions professor leaning up against a nearby tree. She'd almost admit he looked charming, except for the fact that he was wearing lederhosen. She snorted and pulled herself off of the ground. She stretched and her back popped. "Where are we?"

Professor Snape scowled, "We're still in that bloody book. Brown will be lucky I can't give detentions past graduation."

Hermione looked down at her own outfit. It was a forest green Dirndl. "Well, it's not too hard to tell which fairy tale we're in right now. Have you found the trail of bread crumbs yet?"

The dark man raised an eyebrow, "Do you think I'd be stupid enough to leave you defenseless in the middle of the Forbidden forest to look for _crumbs_? Besides, we need to wait until the moon is high enough in the sky for us to be able to see anything that small."

Hermione nodded, not wanting to goad him on unintentionally. It seemed the man woke on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Or maybe he just forgot to pull the stick out of his—

"Miss Granger," he hissed.

She jolted guiltily, wondering if he had been reading her thoughts. She looked over to see him with a finger over his mouth in a signal of silence, as he strained to listen for something. All of a sudden he was swiftly but silently crossing the little glade and weaving through the underbrush and trees. Hermione followed, though at a much slower pace, as she knew she would sound like a herd of elephants if she tried to go as fast as he was. Not twenty feet away, he stopped behind some ferns and held his arm out as a signal for her to not go any further. She sidled up to him and strained to see what he was looking at. Soon enough, she heard a scurrying sound from the underbrush not too far away, and noticed some bread crumbs on the ground. Before she could think to say anything, a rat burst out and started nibbling on the crumbs. It wasn't just any rat either. This one was missing one of its claws.

"Pettigrew!" Professor Snape snarled, storming through the ferns and diving for the menace that was eating their path out of the forest. The rat squealed in fright, turned tail, and ran. The professor half-crawled to his feet and tore after. Hermione followed, not caring if she now sounded like a herd of elephants. It wouldn't be as bad as being lost and alone in this place! She felt twigs and leaves scrape her and get stuck in her clothes and hair as she ran just fast enough to have the professor in sight. It was close to five minutes before he stopped, panting. Hermione stopped a dozen or so feet away from him, hands on her knees and gasping, regretting how out of shape she was.

"I apologize for that, Miss Granger. Sometimes my temper gets the better of me. I've wanted to gut that rat for the longest time. He's been quite a source of pain to me." Hermione stared as the professor actually looked a bit contrite. He started walking through the forest at a pace Hermione could keep up with, and she was soon level with him.

"It's alright. Better than almost getting _Avada_'d by a Malfoy with blue facial hair," She replied when she got her breath back.

"What?" His eyebrow rose as he looked sideways at her. As they walked through the dappled light of the forest, she filled him in on her last adventure through the book.

"What should we do about all this? Is there any way out of here other than being tossed about from tale to tale on the book's whim?" Hermione asked after a while. The sky was starting to turn a bit lighter, the stars fading.

"I doubt there is anything we can do besides try not to get ourselves killed and go through each story as close to detail as possible. Hopefully I will not have another encounter with Devil's Snare until I am back in my potions lab cheerfully maiming it to bits for an elixir."

Hermione smiled at him and he smirked back. Somehow, she got the nerve to say what she wanted to. "Professor, considering the situation we're in, I was wondering if you could call me something other than Miss Granger. Even if it's just Granger, I don't mind, but the formality of the classroom seems a bit stifling in this scenario, especially as I think we will be saving each other's lives quite shortly."

The man beside her gave her a calculating look before nodding, "It does seem a little trifling, doesn't it? You may call me either Severus or Snape, but don't expect such liberties when we are once again in a classroom setting. You still have a few months yet before you graduate."

Hermione just nodded and smiled. She then promptly tripped on a root and fell to her hands and knees.

"Granger? You alright?" She felt herself gripped by her upper arm and pulled up. She couldn't stop the red flush of embarrassment from flooding her cheeks as he appraised her. She looked away and nodded. "We'll stop here for now." Hermione looked back at him. "We've been walking half the night. It shouldn't hurt to take a break." He walked over to a nearby tree and sat at the base of it, encompassed on either side by huge gnarly roots. There was plenty of space in the half-circle made by the roots, so Hermione sat down a few feet to his right. Tucking the sides of her skirt under her for warmth and comfort, she leaned against a smooth spot in the roots. She closed her eyes in exhaustion. Having a break was a good idea …

What felt like only seconds later, Hermione was awakened by a slight shake of her shoulder. She blinked the grit out of her eyes and looked around in surprise. It looked to be around midday. Her professor was standing above her with a smirk.

"Have a nice nap?"

Hermione shrugged and then winced at the crick she felt in her neck. She stood and rubbed at the spot, gazing around at the forest. It looked as warm and friendly in the day light as it did cold and mysterious at night. She then saw a creature near the base of a tree. Was that a garden gnome? She pointed it out to Snape. "If it _is_ a garden gnome, then there must be a garden, and therefore, a house nearby!"

He nodded, and they followed the gnome through the forest. Eventually they came to a clearing, and, as Hermione thought, there was a house. This house looked a bit peculiar though.

"Are those Pumpkin Pasties on the roof?"

"Indeed."

Hermione's stomach rumbled. She looked to the man beside her, who was examining the house made of what seemed like every sweet ever sold at Honeyduke's. "Well, in the story, Hansel and Gretel start chowing down without a 'by your leave.' I don't think I'll have any problems with that!"

She started towards the house, but was grabbed by Snape. "We don't know who lives there." He glared around distrustfully.

She shook off his hand, "The witch won't try to eat you until she's fattened you up a bit, and we both know that that's not going to happen any time soon." She looked over his tall narrow physique and smirked, then started again towards the house made of sweets. The man behind her reluctantly followed.

They were soon so engrossed with eating that they didn't notice the door made of candy floss creak open. Hermione turned to grab some more cauldron cakes from a nearby window sill and choked on her chocolate frog. Severus heard and turned around, brandishing a half-eaten licorice wand.

He scowled, "Bloody hell. Of course she would be the witch."

Hermione backed up to stand by him, feeling more comforted, even though there was no chance he could even do a _lumos_ with the candy wand. "I thought she was dead," She muttered from the side of her mouth.

In front of them stood Bellatrix Lestrange, looking as sane as ever. She cackled in delight.

"Welcome to my humble abode. I see you've already made yourselves at home. The least you could do now is give a lonely woman some company?"

This all would have sounded inviting, if it weren't for the fact that it was Bellatrix Lestrange, Voldemort's most loyal Death Eater during the war. She was dead now, as dead as Pettigrew, but it seemed the fairy tale book was taking from the memories of its occupants as well. Hermione prayed Voldemort would not appear.

The insane woman noticed their reluctant dispositions and grabbed each by the arm, dragging them towards the door of the cottage. Hermione flinched and almost shrieked, remembering the last time she was in the same room with the witch. Suffice to say, it wasn't her pleasantest memory.

Severus was scowling, but didn't resist, not knowing how she would act. He knew it wasn't wise to mess with an unhinged woman. No doubt she had a wand, too.

Bringing them into the one room cottage, she shoved them into chairs before a table, and placed a plate of pancakes in front of each of them. Hermione and Severus stared at the pancakes, then back at the witch.

Hermione didn't think things would get weirder than having Lavender as a mom and a blue bearded Draco as her husband, but this really topped the cake. No way could she have ever even dreamed something as extreme as Bellatrix Lestrange serving her pancakes. She looked over at Severus to make sure she wasn't going crazy. He was looking back at her with a raised eyebrow. Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or scream and run out of the cottage.

Before she could decide on either, Bellatrix noticed that they weren't eating. "Well," Hermione flinched at her tone, "eat up! What, do you think I poisoned it?" She cackled and moved to another part of the cottage.

Severus finally spoke, after examining his plate, "It seems we either eat this, or get _Crucio_'d for our inhospitality." With that, he started to eat, and Hermione followed his example. To her surprise, it tasted like a normal pancake should, no spiders or newt eyes added.

Once they were finished, Bellatrix manhandled them over to a pair of small beds, no doubt made for children.

"Nap-time, dearies," She cackled, shoving them towards the beds. She then headed to her own, right by the door way.

Severus cursed. Hermione couldn't tell whether it was because they wouldn't be able to sneak out, or because he was twice as big as the bed. She quelled a giggle, surprised that she could laugh at anything in this situation, but the urge to laugh only amplified, when Severus lay down in the bed, the end of it barely going down to his knees. He sighed and curled up to the side, bringing to mind what Hermione thought Hagrid would look like, trying to sleep on her four poster bed at Hogwarts.

"Sleep tight," She muttered, lying down on her own bed. Despite her shorter frame, she had to curl up as well. She was grateful that the bed was at least comfortable, if not big enough.

Hermione awoke to Bellatrix shaking her. "'Bout time you woke, lazy Mudblood. Start cooking." She pointed to her stove, where the ingredients to an omelet sat.

Hermione looked around and realized Severus wasn't there. "Where is he?"

Bellatrix grinned insanely, "I couldn't just let him wander around here. I thought he might be more comfortable having his own … room." She cackled, and then scowled, "Now make some food! Sev's a growing boy!"

Hermione headed over to the stove and started cooking, feeling not a little threatened. She soon had an omelet made. Bellatrix ushered her out of the cottage and around to the back of it, where there was a garden and shed. She pointed to the shed, smirking. "He's in there."

Hermione hurried over. The shed door was locked, and too sturdy to kick open, but there was a barred window, with a slot under it big enough to fit the plate of food through. She glanced in to see Severus on the ground, groaning and holding his head. She cleared her throat and he looked up sharply. He quickly stood and went to the window.

"Are you ok?" She couldn't help asking, although the obvious answer was no. He raised an eyebrow but decided not to answer that question. "I, er, made you an omelet."

She pushed it through the slat, making sure he was grasping it from the other side before she let go. "Thank you," he growled, and she could tell he was not at all pleased with being caged up like an animal. To her unasked question, he said, "It appears she drugged my pancakes with a sleeping elixir, and, once we were asleep, levitated me to this shed. She added a little _Crucio_ just for the fun of it."

They would have continued the conversation, if it weren't for Bellatrix interrupting. "Now, now, Mudblood, go and make yourself useful. Cook a little something else for poor Sevvy. He looks like he could do with more than an omelet." Severus was highly uncomfortable with the way she assessed his figure. He started to back away from the window. "Ah ah," she tutted, crooking her finger. In her other hand, she brandished her wand threateningly, "Fingers out!"

Hermione watched as she took one of his hands and pinched a finger.

"Still too boney," the witch muttered to herself. She let go of the hand, which Severus quickly withdrew. "You're sticks and stones, dear. If I don't get you fattened up by tonight, it'll be a lean meal for me." She patted her slightly rounded belly, "could use a diet anyway." With that, she cackled and turned to stalk off, but noticed Hermione still standing and watching the proceedings. She scowled, "What did I tell you, Mudblood! Get back to work!"

Hermione didn't hesitate to go back to the cottage, as the crazy lady started brandishing the wand her way. She soon had more food prepared, and was ordered to deliver it. She overheard the witch on her way out.

"It'll be a feast for me tonight," The woman chattered to herself, "no matter that he's not plump, he's tall enough to make up for it!"

Hermione shuddered at the blatant cannibalism and hoped they could figure some kind of escape plan out. She barely had enough time to give Severus more food and share a sympathizing look, before Bellatrix shrieked for her to return.

"Good luck with the hag," Severus muttered, cursing that he couldn't do anything to help Hermione. He hated feeling useless, and at the mercy of an insane woman, no less! Hermione nodded and dashed off before Bellatrix could have reason to curse her.

Entering the cottage, she noticed that the oven was already flaming. Bellatrix, who had followed, turned to her with a nasty smile, "Be a dear Mudbood and check to see that the oven's hot enough for the bread I'm to make."

Hermione had no doubt what would happen if she did as asked. Frankly, she'd rather be cursed. She decided to play coy, hoping the woman was in the mood to fall for it. "I've never cooked using an oven. How would I know what the correct temperature is?"

Bellatrix huffed and rolled her eyes, "You really are quite daft, aren't you, Mudblood?" She moved to the oven, Hermione following, waiting for the right moment. She then noticed the wand left on the dining table, not five feet away. Well, this meant she wouldn't have to resort to drastic measures.

The moment Bellatrix turned from her, Hermione snatched up the wand and petrified the witch. To her horror, the woman was falling towards the open oven. With a quick wave of the wand, the insane woman was floating an inch away from the flames, her eyes roiling in horror, but unable to speak or move. Hermione moved her and placed her, still petrified, on her bed. She then tied her up with some conjured rope, just for safety precautions, and dashed out the door, heading for the shed. She felt an adrenaline rush and quickly unlocked the shed, opening it to see Severus standing there.

Excited that they were both still alive, and relatively unharmed, she shrieked with joy and gave him a rambunctious hug and kiss on the cheek. "We're safe! She's petrified and tied to her bed, and I have her wand!"

Severus just stood there, eyebrow raised, and a smirk on his face. Hermione blushed as she thought about how she ambushed him. She decided to change the subject.

"So, what next?"

Severus shrugged, and stepped out of the makeshift prison. He gazed around.

Hermione thought back to what she remembered of the tale. "Ah," she sighed, "If I remember correctly, we're supposed to find some treasure and bring it back home, where we'll reunite with our father. The mother is dead by this time."

Severus snorted, "This is the worst sort of fairy tale. Not only is there no true moral to the story, but the father gets congratulated for abandoning his children by getting rich at the end of it! At least dear _mummy_ got what she deserved!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and set about searching for the treasure. They entered the cottage once again, and it wasn't too hard to notice the wooden box in the corner. Hermione did another unlocking charm on the latch and opened it to find pearls and jewels. Severus picked up a decent sized emerald to examine.

"It makes you wonder what her occupation was," Hermione said with a smirk. "There's no way some little kids she abducted in the woods were carrying this stuff around."

Severus nodded and pocketed the emerald. "I'm sure _daddy_ won't mind," he explained when he noticed Hermione's look.

Hermione chuffed out a laugh as she tried on a pearl necklace. They both turned when they heard some shuffling to see Bellatrix wriggling around in her bindings, murder in her eyes. Hermione shivered, "Let's get out of here."

She shrunk the box and handed it to Severus, who put it in the pocket of his lederhosen. They walked back out of the cottage, heading to where they believed they exited the forest at. After traveling quite a ways, they came across a river.

"What the hell? This wasn't here when we were walking through before!" Severus paced the bank, searching for a way to cross. Hermione sat on a nearby rock, going through the story of Hansel and Gretel in her head.

Before either of them formed a plan, a great flapping of wings was heard. Hermione shaded her eyes against the sun that was filtering in through the trees. Whatever flew around with that much noise would be big enough to see from quite a ways. She grinned and jumped up when she spotted the disturber of their peace on the other side of the river.

"Buckbeak!" To this, both the Hippogryph and the man close by turned to look at her. She made sure to keep her eyes locked to the winged beast as she lowered her upper body into a bow. After a few tension-filled seconds, the birdie-beast responded in kind, and flew over. It eyed Severus warily before surrendering to the feel of his ear-tufts being scratched. With its slitted eyes and shivering flanks, it looked no more harmful than a draft horse. "It looks like we found a shortcut home."

Severus looked dubious, but, once they were both in the air and speedily passing what would have taken hours on foot, he readily conceded. They touched down before a house only slightly larger than the cottage of horrors they escaped from. It was thankfully of a more tasteful make in style, if not in materials. The dark wood exterior was comfortable with the woods surrounding, and not glaringly obvious and loud, as the cottage covered in Drooble's Best and Bertie Bott's was.

"What in blazes …" To their horror, Filch hobbled out from the house. Buckbeak needed no more incentive to leave than the sight of the crotchety old man and took off. Severus debated internally whether he should really hand over a box of treasure to the man. Hermione tried to smile.

"Erm … Hi dad?" She said. This caused the man to chuff.

"You must've been in the woods far longer than healthy, girl. I'm the grave digger. Your mum's dead." With not so much as a condolence, he hobbled off into the woods. Now that he was gone, they noticed the muffled wailing that was coming from inside. Severus and Hermione shared a look before cautiously peeking in at the slightly open door.

"No," Severus backed off in horror, but his voice was heard between wails. Hermione backed from the door as well, as a shuffling and a snuffling announced that they were noticed. Soon enough, the door was opened, and a red-eyed Gilderoy Lockheart was gazing over them. His lip quivered, and then he quickly ambushed them both into a teary hug.

"Oh, my children! I didn't think I would ever see you again! I'm so glad you found your way back home!"

"No thanks to you," Severus muttered grumpily. Gilderoy pretended not to hear.

"Come in! I'll make you some pancakes!" He skipped away, his golden curls swaying along with him. Hermione and Severus looked at each other.

A smirk formed on Severus' face, "I don't think he would ever be fully able to appreciate such fine jewels. He'd probably wear them instead of trading them for food, and we'd be stuck where we started in this horrific tale."

"He doesn't deserve it, not after what he almost did to us while he was teaching! An attempt at an unauthorized _Obliviate_, on three Second Years, no less!" Hermione was red with indignation.

"Why don't we just give him one thing from what we have? I'm sure it will fulfill the requirements of the story."

With that, they both scrounged through their small pile of treasure in search of the most meager piece of frippery, something Gilderoy would no doubt love for all its tastelessness. They found it in the form of a gold-plated ring with the face of a roaring lion on it.

"For me?" Gilderoy squealed with delight as he tried the ring on. Hermione shared an amused glance with Severus before her vision hazed.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! I used the Brothers Grimm version of the tale. I read the part about the children crossing the water on a duck and immediately thought of Buckbeak! Anyways, please review if you liked it!


	5. The Frog Prince

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters or the original story.

Once Upon a Time at Hogwarts

The Frog Prince

Hermione woke up once again to see that she was lying on the grassy bank of a pond. Before she could think much about her latest adventure, where she actually got along with her Potions Master, she felt a fluttering in her hand. She looked down and opened the hand, only to see Harry's golden snitch hovering over it for a second, before zooming up to her eye-level. Hermione tried to catch it but it evaded her and flew higher.

"Harry is going to kill me," She muttered as she stood. After watching it zoom about her with a little buzz of sound for a few seconds, Hermione struck, but with no luck. She ended up falling into the pond. She emerged, sputtering and glaring at the snitch, which was zooming just out of reach above her.

"It is now no wonder to me why you never played Quiddich, Granger," a croaky voice interrupted her internal tantrum. She brushed back the waterlogged hair from her face and turned to see a large Slytherin-green frog sitting on a nearby lily pad.

"Professor?" Hermione snorted. And she thought _her_ predicament was bad!

The frog noticed her amusement, and the smirk he had been sporting turned into a froggy scowl. "This … adventure is not to get around school."

Hermione grinned and said sweetly, "Of course not, sir." She frowned as the snitch soared by her again.

"I can get that back for you, if you'll do something for me," Severus-frog croaked.

Hermione glared at him. "Can't you do it just to be nice?"

"I am not a nice man … frog, Granger. Everything has a price."

Hermione sighed, "What do you want?"

"I want to get out of this swamp and have a decent meal and sleep. I'm not very keen on flies and lily pads."

"Fine," Hermione said. She knew Harry would be mad if she lost his snitch.

With expert maneuvering and impeccable timing, the frog jumped high and snatched the snitch out of the sky with his long sticky tongue. It snapped back into his mouth and he coughed a bit before it fell out. Hermione quickly picked it up from the ground, not wanting to owe the frog any more favors.

"I'll see you at the castle then," she said sweetly as she started to walk off, her drenched dress dragging on the ground. She was still mad at how he had been amused at her stumble into to pond. He didn't ask for a ride to the castle, she reasoned.

Later that night, as she sat at the dinner table with Harry, who was supposedly the king and her father (weird), they heard a squelch and a thump from the dining room door. Harry got up and pulled out the Sword of Gryffindor he had from the scabbard attached to his belt.

He opened the door, and looked around, nonplussed.

"Down here, idiot," came a croaky voice from below, and Harry spotted the frog. "Your _daughter_ owes me a _favor_," he fairly hissed. Harry looked to Hermione for confirmation and saw her reluctant nod.

"In that case, welcome to my kingdom," he opened the door wider and stepped aside to make room for the visitor to enter. The frog hopped to the table with a few squelching noises, and Hermione could have sworn he muttered something like "royal pain in the arse" somewhere along the way.

With some maneuvering, he ended up on the table close by her.

He observed the food on her plate with delight, "Thank you for sharing your meal, _princess_." His tongue zapped out to snatch a bit of food off her plate. Hermione flinched and pushed a little away, not having quite the appetite anymore. She had forgotten for a while that this was her professor, and that he could assign her innumerable amounts of detentions for her offence.

Harry quietly ate across from them, observing the strange interaction. "So," he started awkwardly, "What did he do so that you had to owe him a favor?"

Hermione glanced at him guiltily before looking away. "The snitch escaped and I couldn't catch it," she muttered.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Well then, it seems you'll have to do as he says then."

It wasn't a Snape look, but Hermione knew how much that snitch meant to him. It was the first one he ever caught. In some ways, she'd rather face Snape's wrath than Harry's disappointment. A few minutes and a stilted conversation later, Hermione made to excuse herself, but was interrupted before she could fully stand from her seat.

"I hope you are not forgetting our deal. I require … assistance, if I am ever to get to sleep before dawn. You may carry me," Severus-frog had adopted a supercilious tone, as if he was doing _her_ a favor. King Harry coughed in surprise and adjusted his glasses that had gone askew. Hermione cringed, but held out her hands so the frog could climb on.

She was expecting slime and goo, but all she felt as he sat in her hands was a cool waxy texture. She unconsciously stroked the skin at his back with her thumb and he let out a croaky purr. It was clear from his expression that he hadn't meant to let that out. Hermione ignored his scowl and took him up the tower stairs to her bedroom.

"I sincerely hope you don't snore," She muttered, as she placed him on the pillow beside hers. He just smirked.

Rolling her eyes, she got into her side of the bed and curled up under the covers, facing the other way. It felt so awkward, knowing that she was sleeping in bed with a frog on the pillow next to her, never mind the fact that it was her Potions Professor.

Hermione woke up, fully rested and warm, thinking that she'd never had such good sleep before. She moved to stretch, but found she couldn't, as something was wrapped tightly around her waist. Looking down, she saw a bare arm sparsely covered in black hair. "Err…"

Hermione couldn't seem to say anything. Trying to wriggle out of the arm's grasp just caused it to tighten its hold on her. She felt a breath stir the hair by her ear as an almost inaudible sigh came from the person behind her. She paused for a few seconds before deciding that it didn't matter if the person was awake, so long as she was out of his grasp. She turned her head and bit him.

"Aurgh! What in Merlin's name …!"

Hermione sprang out of his grasp, grabbing a nearby candelabra on her way off the bed, then turned to defend herself with it, if need be. What she saw on her bed surprised her. "Naked!" She squeaked.

Instead of a large frog, the Potions Master was sitting in her bed, scowling as he rubbed his shoulder. His bare shoulder. Of course, she couldn't tell whether he was fully naked, as the sheets were pulled up to his waist, but she felt quite sure he was. Hesitantly, she lowered the candelabra, as he didn't look too threatening with his bed-tousled hair.

Severus growled, "Did you have to bite me? You could have asked me to let you go."

"You were asleep. It called for desperate measures. Besides, I didn't even know it was you at first. I thought it was some creep who had snuck in during the night. You wouldn't be polite to someone like that, would you?"

He raised an eyebrow. Hermione put the candelabra back down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed, her back to Severus.

"What happens now?" He grumbled.

Before she could answer, the door swung open, and King Harry appeared. He saw the two of them on the bed, one with no clothes on. He could only stare for a few minutes, his face getting red.

"Um, Harry, it's not what it looks like," Hermione tried to placate him, not knowing how he was feeling. This seemed to snap him out of it.

"Not what it looks like? You're in a bed with _him_, and he's _naked_!"

"Now that we have all observed my state of dress, can you give me some clothes?" He observed Harry's expression, which didn't seem to be improving, as well as the hand that unconsciously moved towards the Sword of Gryffindor. He heard the faint clomping of a horse and carriage outside the window, and took the opportunity. "Never mind. It's been great, but there's my ride."

With that, he wrapped the sheet around his waist with dignity, grabbed Hermione's hand, and rushed out of the room and to the front doors of the castle. "Hurry, before the idiot decides to come after us!"

They dashed out the doors, Severus trying not to trip over the bedclothes, and saw a beautiful carriage fit for royalty parked and waiting. It had eight horses, decked out in feathers and gold. Hagrid was waiting for them with the carriage door open, tears in his eyes. "I thought I'd never see you out o' that green form again, Sev'rus," he sniffed.

"Oh stop your blubbering, man, and get this carriage going. We've got places to be!"

The giant grinned at his familiar manner and hopped up front, grabbing the reigns. Hermione saw now why they needed eight horses as the carriage seemed to groan under the weight of the half-giant. They hurriedly climbed in and sat as it started off. The rising sun shone too bright through the carriage window and they closed their eyes against it, only to be swirled off to their next adventure.

A/N: Hope you liked this one. It's based off of the original fairy tale of the Frog Prince, by the Grimm Brothers. Please review!


	6. Goldilocks and the Three Bears

Disclaimer: I don't own the fairy tale or the characters. I just warp each to my will. Mwahahaha…

Once Upon a Time at Hogwarts

Goldilocks and the Three Bears

Hermione once again found herself in the woods, but without company this time. She looked herself over, noticing that she seemed a bit shorter than usual. A strand of hair crossed her line of vision and she froze.

"No, no, no, no, no," she muttered, pulling her hair into view. "Gah! I'm blonde!" She shrieked. There was nothing bad about being blonde, but Hermione associated blonde with Lavender Brown, and Lavender Brown equaled girly and unintelligent. By the time she got her wits about her, Hermione was one grumpy looking Goldilocks. At least with Rapunzel, she kept her same hair, though it had become larger than life. She was quite disgusted with the golden halo of perfect ringlets.

Huffing, she stomped towards the house nearby, not even bothering to check if anyone was home before barging in. She stomped over to the bowls of porridge, starting with the largest one. She stuck a spoon in and scooped a bit of the steaming goo out. In her fit of pique, she stuffed it in her mouth without thinking. She soon regretted that action.

"Merlin's hairy balls on fire!" She exclaimed, spitting the scalding substance out. "What the hell does the bear usually eat, whole jalapeños? That mess is too hot!"

She went on to the next bowl and got a spoonful out. It took a struggle of a few seconds before, with a squelching noise, some of the porridge separated onto her spoon. She looked at it doubtfully before putting it in her mouth. It took five minutes of chewing and swallowing before she could say, "It was probably tastier for Ron to throw up slugs than eat this mess! They must use it to hold the house together."

Hermione went to the third bowl, sighing in relief at the normality. There only seemed to be a few mouthfuls in there for her to eat, which she did. Her stomach still rumbled afterwards, partly in complaint of what she had ingested before the decent bowl of porridge, and partly because she was still apparently hungry. "House Elves would starve from such a portion," she grumbled, walking over to the chairs.

She hopped up onto the largest of them but jumped off immediately after with a yelp, rubbing her tush. "Who would want to sit on _that_!" Hermione thought the chair was very similar to the uncomfortable wooden chair across from Severus Snape's desk in his office, except it seemed to have a cushion filled with rocks on top. Compared to that chair, the second looked a sight better. Hermione sat, but was surprised when she didn't stop sinking into the cushion of the chair until she was literally kissing her knees. It took a few minutes to struggle out, Hermione afraid of being smothered by the menacing furniture the whole time. She went over to the small chair that looked quite innocuous and studied it before shrugging and sitting.

"I absolutely loath this fairy tale," She muttered a few seconds later, sitting in a pile of broken chair pieces.

Giving up, she went upstairs and studied each of the beds, not really wanting to get into any of them. She got on the big bed and went to lean back, but found she couldn't. She turned to see that half the bed was raised. How anyone could sleep in a bed set up more like a chair, she didn't know. She crawled off and got onto the second bed. When she laid down, it left her in an undignified position, her legs and feet more elevated than her head, skirt rising. She rolled off and found herself in front of a small but normal looking bed. She got in and fell asleep as though someone had given her a sleeping drought.

Meanwhile, three bears had entered the house. One was huge, gangly, and uncoordinated, with red-tinted fur. The second was a black bear of an average size, and had a lightning bolt scar on its forehead. The third, also a black bear and smallest, had what seemed to be a permanent scowl on his face.

"Bloody Hell, I'm starved," The large bear grumbled, stomping over to his porridge. He paused when he noticed his spoon in his porridge bowl, something that was not as it was before they had left. "Someone's been messing with my porridge!"

The second bear noticed the state of his porridge as well. It had a crater from where the porridge was taken out. "Mine too, Ron."

The smallest bear picked his empty bowl up and tossed it to the wall, where it smacked and slid down. The other bears winced. "They'll be sorry, whoever it is."

Ron-bear looked around suspiciously. He noticed his chair. "Hey, my rock cushion is not in its right place!"

The scarred bear scratched at his forehead as he looked at the sinkhole in the middle of his chair.

"At least _yours_ isn't _broken_," the littlest but fiercest of them griped.

The other bears nodded and followed the smallest upstairs. They observed the crumpled state of their bedclothes and looked over to see the little bear standing by his bed with a smug look. He pointed, and the others came to get a closer look. It was the culprit alright. The three stood, observing for a bit, when Ron-bear noticed something black crawling across the bed frame. He whimpered and pointed. Harry-bear was snuffling, as a bit of stirred dust got under his nose. Severus-bear just scowled down at the miscreant lying in his bed.

Hermione came out of her sleep to a terrifying sight. A giant bear had its claws only inches from her face, another was roaring (she didn't know it was a bear sneeze), and the third had a dark scowl on its face. She shrieked and ran away, slamming the front door of the cottage on her way out in a way to possibly hinder the beasts if they thought to chase after her.

Severus-bear raised his furry eyebrow at Ron-bear while Harry-bear rubbed at his twitching nose with a paw behind them.

"Spider," Ron-bear whimpered, before fainting to the ground, his bulky body causing the whole cottage to rumble.

"Quite," Severus-bear said, rolling his eyes at the bumbling idiots he kept company with.

A/N: Hope you liked it! The Three Bears story I used as a guideline was written by Joseph Jacobs.


	7. Beauty and the Beast

Disclaimer: My only ownership in this story is how I fuse the characters into our well-known fairy tales.

A/N: This is quite a bit longer than the other chapters, but I know you won't mind. Please review! Thanks!

Once Upon a Time at Hogwarts

Beauty and the Beast

Hermione sat up and wiped the bit of drool from the corner of her mouth. It appeared that she had fallen asleep over a book. Nothing unusual, then. A pair of annoying giggles brought her attention to the two girls across the room from her in their ill-fitted finery. It was Padma and Parvati Patil, and she would have thought she was seeing double if it weren't for the different color of the dresses, though the style was exactly the same. She smiled at them, but the girls just rolled their eyes and left the room in tandem.

"Beauty," a voice called from the room that the girls had disappeared to. "Beauty, please come in here."

It took a few seconds before Hermione realized it was her that was being called into the room. She had never been called a beauty before. Curious, she gently set the book aside, which appeared to be a fascinating read on the old English kings of the past. She treaded over to the entry way and peeked in to find a small but cozy room with a lighted fireplace. Mr. Weasley greeted her with a smile from his threadbare armchair and beckoned her over to the adjoining one. Hermione sat, and only then caught a glimpse of the Patil sisters and their twin glares at her before they left the room.

"Ah, don't mind them. I don't think they ever liked your nickname, Beauty. They don't realize that they have grown quite beautiful as well. I suppose it may be a difficult thing for each to realize that they will always have someone just as beautiful as they are. They don't see that their inner traits can add more to their beauty, and diversify each from the other in that respect," He sighed, as if it was something he thought about often, to the point of weariness, and Hermione's heart went out to him. Arthur Weasley was always a kind man.

"Now," he mustered himself, and Hermione saw he had something important to tell her, "I have received word that one of my lost trade ships has found its way back to our port in town. The other girls have asked for some new dresses and such. What shall my Beauty wish for?"

Hermione smiled at him, "Nothing more than your safe return, of course."

Mr. Weasley smiled, "That is a kind sentiment, daughter, but I would look the worst of cads to come home with only enough for two daughters. Really, what do you wish for? New books, a piece of jewelry, some new clothes for yourself?"

Hermione glanced at the clothes she had on. She could tell they had seen better days. It was not wise to get one's hopes up, though, and Hermione knew what would come of this story. "A rose," she said, and tried to keep the pain out of her smile. She knew what it would cost this honorable man in the end.

Mr. Weasley patted her knee with a grin, "A rose it will be then, my fair daughter."

Hermione got up and went back to her book, feeling that the conversation was now at an end.

Mr. Weasley was trembling, from cold, weariness, and fear. In his despair from having to come back home and face his daughters empty-handed, he had gotten himself lost in the woods. The sun had set an hour ago, and the darkness was starting to settle in. It was close to winter, and days didn't last so long as they used to. The draft horse beneath him snorted and shifted uncomfortably at the sounds of the forest nightlife and the twigs snapping around them.

He patted the horse and smoothed a hand down its neck, "Don't you worry, girl. We'll find home soon. My luck can't be that bad."

He felt he should eat his words, as within the next few minutes, the distinct call of a werewolf started up, howling to the moon from across the woods. This brought no comfort to the poor draft horse, which stamped nervously and hesitated. Mr. Weasley took a firmer hold of her reigns and prayed for aid. The prayer was answered when he saw a flicker of light. It was too low to the ground to be mistaken for a star, and he steered the horse towards it through the trees. She was still hesitant, but sensed the confidence of her master and mustered her bravery.

"That's a good girl," Mr. Weasley encouraged, squinting through the woods to make sure his target was still within sight. After a few minutes, they came to an iron-wrought gate, which, mysteriously opened by itself when they approached. Arthur saw a stable just beyond, and so did his horse, snorting in happiness and trotting towards it eagerly, earning a chuckle from her master.

Once his horse was settled, warm and munching away happily at some food left conveniently in one of the stalls, Mr. Weasley headed out to see if there was anyone to whom he could thank belatedly and beg off some sort of shelter for the night. He felt a bit overwhelmed at the castle that loomed in front of him. To think that this hunk of rock had been hidden in the woods all this time! He'd never heard of it, nor seen it before, but was too exhausted from his travels and disappointment for curiosity.

As the gates had done, the heavy front doors opened before he could lay a hand on them to knock, and Mr. Weasley hesitantly stepped in, searching for servants. He found none.

"Curious," he muttered, before walking in. He followed the firelight to a large dining room with a large fireplace that beckoned him with its warmth. Once he felt thawed and warm enough from the fire, he noticed the exquisite smell of food. A look to the table revealed a place set for one, with various covered dishes surrounding it.

He sat hesitantly, saying a silent prayer, both in thanks and forgiveness to the owner of this grand place. Lifting the lid from the nearest dish revealed one of his favorite foods, and his appetite flourished with abundance. Indeed, by the time he was finished eating, he was quite unwilling to get up from his chair.

He ruefully patted his belly. It might be best if he searched the castle for someone to thank. Mr. Weasley hated nothing more than seeming ungrateful. He walked through several rooms, all well lit, but none with occupants. After about half an hour of fruitless searching, he stepped into a room, and, seeing the bed, gave into the temptation to sleep.

He woke up the next morning feeling more refreshed and unworried than usual, considering his situation. He patted the bed in silent thanks and proceeded to make himself as presentable as possible, hoping to find the master of such a generous household. He found, to his surprise, an outfit laid out for him, and upon trying it on, relished in its fit. He had lost quite a bit of weight after his descent from gentility, and was not able to afford much in the way of a new wardrobe. Hence, most of his clothes had been a bit baggy. Surely this was magic! He looked out the window to see what kind of weather he would be facing on his journey, and saw, to his amazement, what looked like a garden in full bloom, as though it was spring, and not the beginnings of winter, as he knew it was.

"Amazing," he muttered to himself in wonder. Surely he had not slept that long!

After seeing to himself, he ventured out, searching once again for anyone to whom he could give his thanks. He found nothing but a breakfast set out for him, to which he thanked his host aloud, even though no one was around. He wondered if the castle was sentient.

Disappointed, he set out to get his horse and leave, not wanting to impose on such a generous host more than he had to. He found his horse as hale as she had ever been, tossing her head in greeting and neighing happily. He chuckled when she butted him gently with her head as he untied her from the stall.

"Had a nice night, did you, girl?"

Both horse and master cheerfully made their way across the grounds, not feeling so helpless about their journey now. Arthur had the feeling that they would be able to find their way home this time. They were heading past the entrance to the gardens when Arthur did a double take. He stopped the horse and dismounted, heading to the garden. Within where all sorts of flowers, but his eyes were only on the abundance of roses, in every color, spread over the whole garden.

He smiled. There was at least one daughter he wouldn't be disappointing. Maybe the other girls would accept some flowers as well in apology. Some marigolds, perhaps?

He stepped towards a bush on which roses of deepest red grew, almost black at the edges. He rubbed a velvet petal in approval, and set about cutting a small portion away, small enough not to be too noticeable. He was just about to look over the surrounding area to see what could appease his other daughters, when a snarl from behind set his hair on end and his whole body trembling in fear. He grasped the stems of the roses hard, their thorns biting into his flesh, and turned to see a beast. Horrified, he backed away, hands in front of him in supplication and protection, though it looked as if he would be receiving neither from the beast, who stalked closer, its large form looming over him and blocking the cheery sunlight of the day.

"Ungrateful wretch," it growled, its mouth distorting to form words that no normal beast should be able to say, "After the hospitality I have reluctantly given, you have the nerve to take what has not been offered." A snarl ended this sentence, and Arthur trembled at the fanged scowl and the dark burning eyes that seemed to pin him to the spot.

The beast looked him over with distain, "I'll give you a few minutes to say your prayers." His sarcasm was not lost on Mr. Weasley.

"Please!" He called after the beast desperately, who had turned to leave him. The beast stopped, and Arthur took this as a sign that he was listening. "Indeed, I am not ungrateful. I have come upon hard times, and have found it hard to disappoint my daughters, especially my youngest, who truly deserves better than her situation. Her only request was a rose, and I found the temptation too great to resist as I passed your garden. I will do anything to gain my charitable host's forgiveness for this slight."

"Do not call me charitable," the beast grumbled, his back still turned. "I will forgive on one condition: that you send a daughter to take your place. If none are willing, you will return here in three months. Make sure to say your final goodbyes before you return, if that is the case."

"I promise," Arthur's voice warbled weakly. He knew he couldn't give up any of his daughters to the beast, and therefore was resigned to the fact that his life was going to be quite a bit shorter than he had planned. Tears pricked his eyes. He had so wanted to see all his daughters happily established in their own households.

"In the room you stayed last night, there is an empty chest. Fill it with what you desire and it shall be sent to your home," the beast stalked off, and Arthur mused distractedly that he still did not know his host's name. He did as the beast bade, and soon had enough finery for all his children to be satisfied. They never even need know that he had been here. He could have just as easily gotten such goods from the ship.

His journey home was a bit somber, as he thought about the consequences of his actions, and what his daughters' reactions would be, if they were to ever find out.

Hermione welcomed Mr. Weasley back with a smile. It was a relief to have someone home that was in her corner. Her sisters were disdainful of her at best, and her brothers, who turned out to be the Weasley twins and Percy, where either obnoxious or pompous. He returned the smile, though it did not seem to be his regular easy going grin. Hermione escorted him to a chair by the fire to recover from his journey. She didn't notice until he handed them to her, that he had a handful of roses.

"Thank you," she took them, but gasped and set them on the side table when she noticed the puncture wounds stained with blood that were caused by the rose thorns. She fetched a bowl of Murtlap Essence and proceeded to wash his hand, being gentle. The wounds healed after a few seconds. "What happened?"

Hermione made sure to have a no nonsense tone about her, as she had seen Molly take on when wanting answers. She saw as Mr. Weasley's lip quivered.

"It appears I won't be around for much longer."

That brought attention from his other children, who had all been exclaiming and delighting in the things within the trunk that had been brought home.

"Papa, what can you mean? Surely we aren't that bad off, now that you've received this wonderful blessing?"

This broke Arthur's resolve, and he proceeded to tell them of his ventures. After the tale had been told, Parvati and Padma glared at Hermione.

"If Beauty hadn't requested something so odd from you, nothing like this would have happened."

Hermione thought it would be too cruel to say in front of their father that the girls wouldn't be blessed with such finery if he had gone about it any other way.

"Don't worry, I will go."

Arthur looked at her, ready to protest, when the Weasley twins interrupted him.

"'course you won't."

"Seeing as we're going to slay that wretched beast."

"No worries father," they ended in tune, as always. Arthur seemed more appalled at this solution.

"The beast is too powerful for either of you to be able to kill, and even if he could be killed, I would not do such a thing. I am the one at fault here, and so I must pay the price."

All his children protested this.

"Let me at least go with you, papa," Hermione said at last, and the Patil twins smirked to each other. This would take her out of their way, for a while at least. "I am determined." A stubborn Hermione was an implacable Hermione. She would go with him even if she had to sneak out and follow in secret.

Mr. Weasley obviously knew her, as he relented reluctantly.

The Patil twins managed to cry at their leaving, but Hermione wondered whether they were not tears of joy, or if they had found some use for the onions in the kitchen.

The draft horse on which they both rode seemed to know where to go, and so father and daughter spent the time talking.

"You'll be interested to know that some suitors came by for Parvati and Padma while you were gone. I think it would be excellent if you would be there to give them your blessing."

Arthur almost agreed, but caught himself.

"You know that I won't be able to go back. You'll just have to tell them in my place."

"And you know how much they'll enjoy that," Hermione muttered, and both chuckled ruefully. They were soon at their destination. The horse made its own way to the stables, much to Arthur's and Hermione's amusement. She was in awe of the castle, which quite resembled Hogwarts, in a certain way.

The table was set for two, but Arthur felt he couldn't eat, not with the thought of meeting the beast again at any minute, and his fate short after.

"Come on," Hermione coaxed him, "It's your favorite."

He managed a little, for her sake.

Suddenly, they were not the only ones in the room. Arthur trembled and gripped Hermione's hand before letting go and standing up.

"Have you come willingly," grumbled a deep intimidating voice from the shadows beyond the light of the fireplace.

Suddenly Hermione wasn't quite so confident. Was it careless that she assumed the beast would be Snape? It could be Voldemort himself, for all she knew, ready to rip her to shreds if he didn't _Avada_ her first!

Except, that wasn't how the story worked.

Hermione paled in mute horror at the thought of possibly having to pretend she was in love with a Voldemort-beast. She snapped out of it when Mr. Weasley nudged her.

"Y-yes," Hermione stuttered, not knowing whether she could stand, so she stayed seated.

"You have kept your promise. You may part ways tomorrow. Whoever is to leave can never return." With that, the presence was gone, and Hermione felt slightly relieved that she hadn't seen the beast, and therefore, didn't know exactly what she was getting into.

"Daughter, you had better go tomorrow. I will stay."

"Nonsense," Hermione frowned, "You have unfinished business to take care of at home. Let us leave it up to providence whether I am to survive this." Hermione was stubborn in this as well, and they parted for the night with no words, but a tearful hug.

In the morning, after a surprisingly good sleep, Hermione met Mr. Weasley at the front of the castle. It was a bittersweet parting, Hermione leaving blessings with him to give to her sister's marriages, not even venturing to think how her future situation would be.

When he was out of view, lost to the forest, she sat at the steps of the castle and cursed, even as she knew that she had to follow the story line. She would not see Mr. Weasley end his life without a bit more happiness given him.

She was determined to make the best of the time she had left, and so gave herself a tour of the castle. She was surprised to find a door on the third floor that had her name on it. She opened it to find a room as tasteful as she could ever have wanted. It had a luxurious bed, a nice wardrobe, and her own bathroom, but all these were dwarfed significantly by the fact that most of the walls were covered in bookshelves that reached to the ceiling. A cheerful fire crackled in a fireplace, and Hermione warmed at the thought that she would not have received such fine apartments if she were to die.

"If only I could see how Mr. Weasley is faring," no sooner had she said it, than a giant mirror in the corner of her room flickered. She ventured forward cautiously, but gasped when she saw through it that her father had made it home safely, if looking a bit depressed. Her sisters certainly didn't seem so sad to see that she was not there. Hermione snorted. Good riddance.

Hermione sat at the dining table, feeling a bit spoiled, as it appeared that her favorite foods were provided, and there was a soft music in the background. She squeaked in fright when she heard a chair being pulled out from down the table. It was the beast. His back was facing the fireplace, and she could only observe his profile, noting his large hulking stature, broad shoulders, and big nose.

"May I?" he grumbled, as though reluctant to be polite.

"It is your castle. You may do as you see fit."

"No," his growl caused her to tremble a little, and so he toned it down, "You are mistress here now, and if my presence distresses you, I can leave. If you'll answer me, do you find me very ugly?"

Hermione was shocked at his question. Was the beast vain? Maybe it was Lockhart again? She had never thought much of her own appearance, and so didn't feel she was the best judge.

"I cannot say, as I have hardly seen anything but your profile, but I know from my father and my experience thus far that you are a very generous host, if a little covetous about his greenery."

She saw one of his large eye teeth glint in the reflected firelight as he gave a beastly smirk. "Yes, but other than that, I fear I am a useless creature, a fool."

"One who understands himself will never be called a fool," she replied, wondering whether she should be stroking the beast's ego. She said what was honest though, and it appeared he liked her the more for it.

The beast seemed a little surprised at the complement, for he hemmed and bade her eat, which she was already doing. She smiled and continued to enjoy her supper.

"I hope you will be content here," he grumbled after a while, as if he had gotten his nerve back. She almost chortled to herself, amused at the thought that she could ever be able to unnerve one such as him. She was almost certain the Beast was Snape. She decided to experiment, while still staying truthful.

"Indeed, in your kindness, I hardly notice any deformity."

"I'm still a monster," he muttered, as if trying to remind her of how intimidating he could be. Hermione wasn't falling for it. She decided to push her luck even more.

"There are many people I have met that deserve that name more than you do, for all their beauty. In fact, their beauty seems to disfigure them all the more, at least in their attitude and actions."

"Thank you," he growled out, and she guessed that he was quite embarrassed, to her delight. He didn't say anything else for the remainder of the meal, and she was almost sorry for it. It wasn't often that she had decent conversation, considering who her siblings were, and what their situation had been for the last little while. The beast had its redeeming qualities to be sure.

"Beauty, will you marry me?" He growled out reluctantly and abruptly, once she had finished her meal. Shocked, she could only stare at his profile for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry, but no," she replied. She felt bad, but knew she couldn't. She didn't even know which person he was behind the beastly exterior!

The beast growled, and she was a bit afraid of him now, but he only bid her goodnight before leaving, stopping at the doorway to look back before he disappeared.

Hermione felt bad, but knew she wouldn't be able to marry the beast at this moment, even if he were the most handsome man on earth. From her experience, outer looks were a fickle thing.

It appeared to be a nightly routine for them. A pleasant conversation, a pleasant meal, a terse proposal, and a stilted parting.

Hermione was a bit sick of it after a while. One night she told him up front, "I wish I could say yes, but it wouldn't be an honest answer. You are a good friend to me, but I cannot."

"Promise you will never leave me then, Beauty," He replied after a few seconds.

Hermione hesitated. She knew from the mirror that Mr. Weasley was doing very poorly, still in regret and agony over his decision. She wished with all her might that he could see her situation. "I would love to stay forever, but my father is still ill at the thoughts of how he has left me. If I have no way to assure him, I'm afraid I won't ever be truly content to stay forever."

The beast thought on this for a while before replying, "As I said before, I wish you to be happy here. If it will make you easy, you may go back to him, but I don't think I will live much longer afterwards."

This shocked Hermione, as he seemed healthy enough. "You are a great friend of mine. How could you think I would leave you to die? I promise I will only be gone a week, and will then be with you forever, if you wish. My brothers and sisters are well enough. It is only to my father that I wish to bring relief."

The beast consented, giving her a ring. "This will take you to your father's house. Take it off when you get there. When you are ready to return, put it on and think of me, and you will return."

Hermione nodded and accepted the ring. She recognized it as a Portkey and slipped it on, vanishing and then appearing seconds later in front of her house.

Needless to say, Mr. Weasley was pleased to see her alive and well. They had a tearful reunion (on his part), before he summoned her brothers and sisters, as well as their husbands, to visit. Hermione snorted when she saw that one had married Draco Malfoy, who appeared just as vain as in real life, and that the other had married Michael Corner, who seemed to be quite a nuisance to her sister. Neither looked very blissful at their marriage, and Hermione found herself grateful for her own fortune.

She told them about her adventures, and how kind the beast really was. She didn't mention him asking her nightly to marry her, not wanting the beast to be ridiculed, even if he wasn't there to hear. Mr. Weasley was only disappointed that she could only stay a week. It appeared, to Hermione's surprise, that her sisters missed her as well. They did everything they could during her visit to make her feel happy, and begged at the end of the week for her to stay a bit longer. Hermione, not expecting this from anyone but her father, was surprised at this, and decided that a few more days wouldn't be bad. Surely the beast would understand.

On the third night past the week she had been granted, she woke from a terrible dream, in which the beast was dying. She gasped and grasped for the ring, not caring that she was only in her nightgown. A second after it was placed on her finger, she was back in the castle. She ran all through the castle, searching and calling for him, with no answer. It was all just a bad dream, right? She eventually made her way to the gardens, where she finally found him, close to a small stream.

She had no breath to speak with so she fell to the ground and checked for a pulse, her hands trembling. She found a heartbeat, and sighed in relief. She splashed some water on his face to revive him, and was relieved that he was not in some coma.

The beast blinked up at her. "Ah, Beauty," he spoke, voice gravelly from disuse and blinking as if not sure he was still dreaming, "I could not eat, knowing you were gone forever, but now I can die content at seeing you one last time."

Hermione snorted, "Nonsense. Stop the dramatics. I didn't come all this way to see you die. I've realized I can't live without you." With those words, it seemed the castle was in celebration. Hermione saw fireworks shoot off into the night sky, the lights in the castle seemingly dancing in each of the windows. She looked back to see how the beast was faring, only to realize a prince was in her arms. In her shock she dropped him and stood up. He grunted, but looked up at her and smirked in a way that was very familiar. It was Severus Snape.

"Where is the beast?" Hermione asked faintly.

"Right here, you know-it-all," he replied, gesturing to himself, his smirk growing more smug. "It appears you broke the spell placed on me. I suppose I owe you a favor." He offered a hand and she took it, but found herself pulled down into his lap. She blinked up at him and couldn't stop the thought that Severus Snape was quite charming as a prince.

"Kiss me," he breathed, his face looming closer, dark eyes burning, and Hermione nodded, even as she closed her eyes to accept his kiss. It felt like a dream, but she couldn't deny how much she enjoyed the pressure of his lips on hers, before she was lost once again to the mist.

A/N: Hope you liked it! The tale I based this on was the one written by Jeanne-Marie LePrince de Beaumont. A fitting name for the author of this tale, I'd say. Anyways, please review! Thanks!


	8. The Emperor's New Clothes

Disclaimer: Once again, I deny ownership of anything but the fusion of these two stories.

Once Upon a Time at Hogwarts

The Emperor's New Clothes

The mist cleared from his vision, and Severus found himself staring at his own reflection, starkers but for his underwear. Before he could do anything about it, someone entered the room from his left.

"Will it be the black, blacker, or blackest black for Your Highness today?" Lucius Malfoy drawled, holding up three robes. They all looked the same to him. Never did Severus think he would see the day the supercilious man would bow and scrape for anyone other than the Dark Lord. He smirked, thinking he could get used to this.

"The black," he muttered. Anything to get something on. The castle room he stood in was bordering on glacial. Lucius handed him an outfit, and he put it on, smoothing it out, even though there were no wrinkles apparent. He always felt more comfortable in his robes. These robes felt especially comfortable, and he examined them closely to see that they were made of a fine material, and had silky black snakes stitched subtly into the cuffs and hem.

"Your Highness, there are two visitors that you have been long wanting to see in the throne room."

"Thank you, I will meet with them," Severus said, going along with the story. He was unfamiliar with it, and hopefully Miss Granger would show up soon. He'd rather face the discomfort of seeing her so soon after their kiss than mess up their chance of getting out of this fairy tale book.

Upon entering the throne room, he saw that she was in fact one of the visitors. Her face was flushed, and he didn't know whether she was embarrassed by something, or annoyed by her oaf of a companion, who turned out to be Goyle. She stomped on the toady's foot to keep him quiet before turning her attention and a strained smile on him.

"Your Majesty, no doubt you have heard of us in other regions of the land, for our making of the Invisibility Cloak."

Severus almost choked. He had always wanted one, since he was a small boy. "Yes, I wish for one."

"We have actually designed Invisibility Robes especially for you, Your Highness. They are far more powerful," She hesitated, "There are certain rules to wearing it, Your Highness. One must wear naught but the robes. Those still able to see you will be flushed out as stupid, unfit for their office. It is the magic of the cloth. Also, some materials must be made available. Silk and gold, to be precise. We will of course start at once. If all goes well, it should be done tonight."

"Very well then," Severus gestured to a servant who left to fetch the needed materials.

He made as if to leave the throne room, dismissing all his attendants. Granger and Goyle came out not long after. Letting Goyle pass, he grabbed Granger by the arm and pulled her back into the alcove he was hidden in. "You will have to explain which fairytale this is. I'm not familiar with it."

Even in the dimness, he could see and feel the heat of her blush. "I, er, how can I explain this. Ok. It's called the Emperor's New Clothes, in which a couple of con-artists, Goyle and I, to be precise, trick the king into wearing virtually nothing in front of everybody and run away with a handsome amount of gold. Nobody will admit that they can't see the clothing so that they won't look stupid, until a little boy points it out. That's the end of it, really."

"What?" Severus felt nearly apoplectic. He didn't want to strut around naked, especially in front of people he knew, no matter that only one other seemed as if she would remember what happened after this farce was over with. "There is no way, _no bloody way _I'm doing this."

His face was a storm cloud, and he barely noticed Granger's placating tone, "If we don't get this over with, I will forever be working on nothing, your kingdom will become poorer, and soon you will seem even more disgraceful as a king, even with all of your clothes. At least we will be able to escape this story right after the boy shouts out that you're naked."

Her bluntness caused a slight flush in his cheek. He almost wanted to sulk as he did when he was a young boy. He decided to growl instead. Miss Brown had better be lucky that detention was the worst thing he could possibly do to her. He knew Albus wouldn't condone an expulsion or her usefulness as potions ingredients.

"This better be quick," he muttered.

"Oh, don't worry. Just send two people separately to see the 'cloth' before you do, pull off a parade for today, in which you can show off your new 'outfit', and we will be out of this tale in hours," Granger said cheerfully.

Severus grumbled, but thought that was the best plan. They went their separate ways, Granger dragging Goyle off to the loom, and Severus off to get a little pampered before it all came down.

"You," he barked at one of his underlings, who happened to be Cornelius Fudge. The man flinched, but walked over.

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"Go check the progress on my Invisibility Robes," Severus demanded, enjoying the station. He had always wanted to boss the little cretin around.

"Yes, Majesty," he muttered submissively, and left. Severus smirked and commenced eating food fit for a king.

Fudge came back thirty minutes later, a simpering look on his face, "It is the fairest cloth I've ever seen!"

Severus raised an eyebrow. Obviously the oaf hadn't seen it. "What color is it?"

"Color? O-oh! It's blue, Majesty," the old man stuttered.

"Blue?" Severus murmured condescendingly. Everyone knew he only ever wore black.

Fudge seemed to realize his mistake. "S-so blue that it appears black to almost all. It took me a very close glance to tell the difference!" He chuckled nervously.

"I see," Severus drawled, smirking. He always had fun making those that annoyed him uneasy.

A few hours later, he bade Percy Weasley, his supposed councilor, to check the progress of his robes.

The skinny twerp came back, smiling solicitously, "I think Your Majesty will be very pleased by it."

Severus smirked. What a clever turn of phrase for someone who wasn't able to see it himself.

"How does it feel to the touch?"

The red-head gaped about like a fish for a few seconds, before gathering his wits about him, "Oh, most fine, Majesty! It was so soft and light that you will never fear for it itching or irritating your skin."

Severus had to give him credit. Snorting, he dismissed the obviously anxious councilor.

After some time, Severus thought it safe to check things out for his self. He might at least get a decent conversation, away from the simpering idiots he held court with. When he entered the room, he saw Granger and Goyle apparently hard at work on some invisible nothing. Granger even seemed to be working up a sweat. He dismissed all the others, and Granger sighed in relief, while Goyle kept working, as though he really had something to work with.

Severus stared for a bit. "He really is just a pile of rocks sometimes, isn't he?" he muttered to Granger, who stood next to him in observance.

She sighed, "Do you know how hard it is to pretend you're working on something that isn't even there? I must have walked right through the 'fabric' at least half a dozen times. It's lucky everyone seems too involved in trying to pretend that they actually see anything to catch all my mistakes!" She chuckled, but sobered after a while. "It's almost done, as you can no doubt tell. Are you ready to get this over with?"

"Quite," Severus said, though he didn't really know which question it applied to, if any.

Granger caught on to his trepidation, "Don't worry, I'll make sure to have a newspaper to occupy myself with when you parade through the streets in all your glory."

Severus didn't quite like the way she smirked and looked him over as she said this, but at least there was one person he knew he could rely on.

When the time came that they had finished the Invisibility Robes, Granger pretended to do up the upper buttons on his bare chest, a red flush to her face that matched his own. He could tell that she was keeping her eyes above his waist, preserving his modesty. Goyle helped with the rest, much to Severus' discomfort.

He was soon ready to face the crowd. Like a true Slytherin, he held his head up with dignity. Seeing the lone newspaper-covered personage brought his spirits up a bit, knowing that this travesty would soon be over with, but his slight comfort was banished when a voice from the crowd squeaked, "Why, he's not wearing anything! The Emperor's naked!"

Severus had only a second's chance to glare at Dennis Creevey as the mist gathered around his nakedness.

A/N: Yes, I went there. I knew all of you hadn't had enough of a naked Sevvie-poo! Read and review! Oh, and try to keep your shirt on. At least while in public. The fairy tale was written by Hans Christian Andersen. I hope you enjoyed it!


	9. The Princess and the Pea

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the twisting of this tale.

Once Upon a Time at Hogwarts

The Princess and the Pea

Hermione scowled when she found herself standing outside in possibly the worst downpour ever. Her hair was almost flat (a miracle), and her dress, which was no doubt of fine quality, was heavy enough that she stood ankle deep in the mud. She looked around for shelter, blinking and rubbing the water from her eyes, and spotted lights in the distance. She didn't hesitate, pulling the sodden skirts of her dress up and ambling along as best as she could over the soaked and sludgy ground.

Hermione found herself in front of a large castle, with enormous wooden front doors. She wondered if anyone would even hear if she knocked. She tried anyways, not wanting to be rude, and was surprised when the doors were opened immediately. She smiled at Dumbledore, who looked down at her with twinkling eyes.

"And what might we have here? A princess, perhaps?"

Hermione smirked, "Of course."

"Well, come on in. Lemon drop?"

Hermione shook her head at the offer, even as she shook the damp strands of hair out of her eyes. Before she could examine the entrance way of the castle or continue a conversation with her Headmaster-turned-king, they were interrupted.

"Who has come to see us at this unholy hour of the night?"

Hermione stared as Minerva McGonagall strode across the room towards them in all her tartan glory. There were no words to describe her dress.

"It seems we have a distinguished guest: a princess!" Dumbledore steered her over to a nearby fireplace, mindful of the fact that she had started to shiver.

"Are you sure? There are so many claiming themselves to be such that it's quite hard to tell, these days. In any case, you may stay the night. What kind of hosts would we be if we let you back into that storm?"

Hermione and Dumbledore exchanged an amused look with each other before she bid him goodnight and followed McGonagall. They walked towards a grand staircase and up the stairs. McGonagall showed her into the library, where there was a large fireplace, tea, and books. She left to get a room sorted for Hermione, who was quite content to stay. She walked towards the tea set and poured herself a cup.

"Mind if I join you?"

Hermione jumped and almost spilt tea on herself. She glared at the man sitting a few feet away. "Don't do that!"

He smirked, "Doesn't it feel a bit like Hogwarts here? Addled old Dumbledore, tartan-wearing Minerva, and a library never to be bored of. In fact, it's even better, as there aren't any whiney little kids hanging about. I feel like a prince." Standing, he walked over and picked up a crumpet.

Hermione smiled back, "I thought you already were one, even before the incident."

He choked on his food.

"It was your mother's last name and your pseudonym, wasn't it?"

Severus nodded, eyes narrowed, no doubt wondering how she knew that information.

"Your room is ready dear," Minerva called from the entrance of the library. "Ah, Severus, this is …"

"Hermione," she slipped in, when the woman hesitated, "Princess Hermione."

Severus looked her over, and her cheeks burned at what she might look like right now with her drenched dress and soggy hair. He held out his hand. Hesitantly, she placed it in his, and he bent over and kissed it, eyes never leaving hers.

"A pleasure, I'm sure."

Those words and actions didn't help her blush, and she escaped his company as gracefully as possible. She was led to a room not too far down the hallway. It opened to a richly appointed bedroom. What caught her eye though, was the skyscraper of a bed in the middle of it. There was actually a ladder placed next to it for her to use to get in! Hopefully her fear of heights wouldn't manifest too greatly.

"Have a nice sleep," McGonagall bade, and she replied in kind. It seemed the woman was skeptical about whether she was a princess tonight. Hermione sighed, dressing in the clothes provided before she started climbing. Even if she didn't feel the pea during the night, there was no way she was going to get any rest. Not with the possibility of falling to her death every time she rolled over!

Severus smirked as he watched Hermione limp into the breakfast room the next morning. He could tell that she'd not gotten a wink of sleep. Even with that though, he could still see through her little act. He stood and pulled a seat out for her. "Sleep well?"

She glared at him and sat gingerly, aware of the eyes of the queen and king on her, "I'm afraid I'll be black and blue soon. There was something hard in my bed last night."

McGonagall, not known for subtlety, cried, "She really _is_ a princess! Oh, Severus, what _luck_!"

Severus exchanged amused glances with Hermione as they both were swept up in the fog.

A/N: The original tale was written by Hans Christian Andersen. Please show your love for the story by reviewing! Thanks!


	10. Jack and the Bean Stalk

Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

Once Upon a Time at Hogwarts

Jack and the Beanstalk

Severus woke to the shrill call of Minerva McGonagall, ordering him to milk the cow. This was getting to be more than absurd.

Grumbling, he got out of bed, stretched his lanky form, and went to fetch the milk. To his consternation, he was unable to get any. Either he was doing something wrong, or the cow was dry.

"Oh, no," Minerva sighed when she saw the lack of fruit for his labor, "I knew one day this would happen. We've been living solely off of her for the last few months. You'll just have to take her into town and sell her." With that, the woman was bustling off once again. Severus rubbed his face and looked at the cow. It looked back. He scowled. It was too bloody early.

Soon enough, he was heading to the village, the cow plodding along behind. He felt quite undignified.

"Hello there, Severus," a voice squeaked, close to the ground by the side of the road. Severus turned to look and raised an eyebrow. It was Filius Flitwick. The Charms Professor beckoned him closer. "Where might you be going today?"

"I'm going to sell the cow," Severus replied, and cringed. He never thought he'd be saying those words.

"I see," Filius said, with a glint in his eye, "How about a trade?" He reached in his pocket and pulled out five beans. They squirmed and wiggled in his hand, making fizzy noises.

"What is that," Severus didn't bother keeping the distain out of his voice. There was no way in real life that he would trade a cow for something he didn't know anything about, but he figured it was inevitable that he would have to trade for them in this case. It just amused him to be able to vex his peers while in this state.

"Plant one in your backyard and tomorrow you'll have vegetation that'll reach the clouds."

"Really," Severus adopted an incredulous tone.

"I know you don't believe me, so I'll let you take the cow back tomorrow if it doesn't work."

Severus pretended to think on it for a minute, just to let the man sweat, before saying, "You'd better be here tomorrow." His glare made the man squeak and tremble an affirmative.

Now, he could walk back, looking slightly more dignified, as he wasn't dragging a cow around. He entered the cottage to see Minerva blink and smile at him.

"Back so soon? Well, how much did you get for her?"

Severus smirked. He knew the answer would irk her. "You'll never guess."

Her eyes glinted, "Better than you thought then? Five pounds? Ten? More than that?"

"Even better," Severus pulled out the beans. They whizzed and squirmed obligingly. Minerva turned red.

You gave up our last means of living for potions ingredients?" She thundered. She slapped the back of his head, grabbed the beans, and threw them out the window. "Get back to bed. There'll be no food for you tonight. There's barely enough for me as it is, thanks to you!"

"Fine by me," Severus grumbled, not quite liking being taken to task as if he were half his age. He was still tired anyways.

Severus woke. His nose crinkled at what seemed to be the smell of rotted vegetation. His room was tinted green, and when he looked out the window, he could see why. There were leaves, sun filtering through them, blocking the whole window. It wasn't like that yesterday. He opened the window.

The smell grew stronger, but he leaned out and looked up. The beanstalk seemed to go on forever. He climbed out onto it and started up it. It took quite a few minutes, but soon he came level with the clouds and to his astonishment, there was a road on them. Cautious, he set his foot upon the road while maintaining a tight hold of the beanstalk. He didn't much care for heights. He lived in the dungeons, for Merlin's sake. Also, he couldn't completely trust that a road on the clouds would be completely stable. It was though, and he stepped out onto it and walked down the path.

The path eventually led to a very large house, and on the steps of it was Madame Maxime. She was quite a bit larger than when he had seen her at the Tri-wizard competition. There were no excuses like big bones available now to deter anyone from seeing that she was a giantess. He opened his mouth to speak, but it seemed his stomach wanted to say something first, for it let out an unreasonably loud grumble. This caught the attention of the giantess.

"You might want to go back vere you came from eef you don't want to get eaten, young man," She sighed morosely, her French accent getting heavier with her aggravation, "I shouldn't have married zat ogre. 'E is 'orrible, and will eat any guests we ever have, eef given the chance. I will nevair have a social life!" She started crying in a delicate way that only a French giantess can.

Severus grudgingly patted her on the shin, since that was as high as he could reach. "There, there," he muttered uneasily.

She sniffled, but looked down at him. "You are so kind. Ze least I could do would be to give you some food. Maybe you 'ave some gossip?" She perked up at the thought of this.

Severus smirked. "I have quite a few interesting stories to tell."

He followed her into the large house, and allowed her to place him on the table top. He proceeded to regale her with some of his latest adventures as he ate crepes, and she listened avidly. He was in the middle of his crepe (it was ogre-size) and his adventure as a bear in Goldilocks when they heard a loud stomping that almost shook him from the table.

Madame Maxime gasped, "Oh mon dieu! What am I to do?" She fretted and looked around, then opened the oven door. "Get in here!"

Severus raised an eyebrow from where he crouched on the table. "You're not serious?" There was no way he was getting into an oven.

The woman sighed, plucked him off the table, and tossed him in, shutting the door right before her ogre of a husband walked in.

Severus scowled with arms folded tightly across his chest, pacing the length of the inside of the oven. As if the day couldn't get any worse. He heard the voice of what sounded like Hagrid, if he was an evil git.

A couple of thumps where made, as though something was tossed on the table.

"There, woman, boil 'em for dinner." A pause. "I smell something … different. Have you been having company Olympe? You know how I don' like strangers around you, especially strange men."

"N-no, Hagrid, I 'ave been alone zis whole time! What took you so long? You are an hour late! Now go get washed up, there is blood in your beard!"

Severus noted what a bad relationship this was, as he was jolted by the stomping of Hagrid, signaling he was leaving the room. He was about to sneak out, when Madame Maxime opened the door a crack.

"Wait until 'e has eaten. 'E will sleep then." The door closed on him, and he had no choice but to do as she told, for Hagrid had stomped back in not long after to eat.

A short while after the hideous sound of crunching and chewing, Severus' ears perked up at the tinkling of coins striking each other. He heard as Hagrid counted aloud the coins, until the giant fell asleep over them, stopping at quite a large number. His snores sounded throughout the house. Severus took that at his cue. He slid out from the oven door, making sure it did not slam back into place, and crept silently across the room. He took a look at the giant, who seemed to be as large as all of Hogwarts' greenhouses put together. He then took in the sight of all the galleons surrounding the snoring man.

He thought of Minerva, or more accurately, about not having a meal when he got back, and his stomach rumbled convincingly. Using his slight build, honed from spying and duels, he lithely climbed a chair, and then up to the table top, careful to not make much noise, even though the giant's snoring drowned out most of the world. With a little effort, and some swift maneuvering, he was able to filch one of the two money bags from under Hagrid's arm.

He fairly sauntered back to the bean stalk, smug at his catch, and tossed it down before him, hoping Minerva wasn't gardening. He then climbed down after. When he was safe on the ground again he picked up the bag, which had miraculously not burst or killed anyone, and dragged it into the house. Minerva saw this and hurried over. She gasped and fanned herself when he showed her what was inside.

"Well, Minerva, I guess I was right. The beans really are magical." He enjoyed the mix of expressions on her face, a cross between sour and happy. It always felt good to one-up a Gryffindor. He still hadn't forgiven her for slapping him on the back of his head, though.

Being ambitious and more than slightly reckless, Severus decided it would be a brilliant idea to go back up the next day and scrounge and swindle what else he could from the giant. Anything to get the Scottish harridan of a woman off his back for a century or two. He would never confess the secret and disturbing pleasure he got from living his life on the edge.

He was soon in front of the super size house once again.

"Madame," He called in greeting, and the large woman looked down from where she was standing in the doorway.

"Oh! It eez you!" She huffed and frowned, crossing her arms, "My husband would not like to see ze likes of you around 'ere! After ze nerve you 'ave to steal from him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Severus replied back blandly. Before the Giantess could get in a protest, he struck, "We never got to finish the stories I was sharing with you yesterday."

Madam Maxime examined him for a little while with narrowed eyes, but reluctantly let him in, where things commenced much as before, him eating a giant-sized portion of food, and her listening intently to his stories.

Soon enough the warning sounds of approaching giant were noted, and Severus was once again tossed undignified into the oven. He tried not to touch any of the edges. Who knew how many people had been cooked in it.

The crunching was heard, and not long after supper, the giant grunted, "Bring ther bird tha' lays the gold eggs." Now this, Severus had to see.

Peaking through a crack in the oven, he saw the profile of the giant, and in his hand there was … Fawkes? The bird obviously was unhappy with its situation. Severus watched as the giant boomed "lay," and how the phoenix grimaced before laying a golden egg. He blinked. Not only had he never thought about those particular birds laying eggs, but Fawkes was a boy … wasn't he?

Never mind. Severus knew that, before he left, he would have that Phoenix to take with him.

Following much the same routine as yesterday, Severus waited until Hagrid was sleeping and the Giantess occupied with some outside chore before he climbed the table to take his prize. When Fawkes saw him, he cooed quietly and soothingly from his golden cage. Severus opened the cage, grabbed the Phoenix' tail-feathers, and was off. Fawkes squawked a little at the weight, causing the giant to stir from his sleep. Severus was happy to be out of the house by the time he heard the loud roar from inside, not a minute later. The Phoenix swooped gracefully down, spiraling around the beanstalk, until they had reached the ground again. Minerva was already out in the yard, having heard the loud roaring.

"What is going on, young man?" Minerva exclaimed.

Severus gestured to the Phoenix now on his shoulder, "We have a new pet."

The Scottish witch was somewhat placated when he showed that it could lay golden eggs.

The next day, still feeling the high adrenaline rush of achievement and escape, Severus decided to push his luck once again. This time, he knew it would be wise to avoid seeing Madam Maxime. She would more likely than not squash him, just as she had warned of her husband. She would no doubt know who had stolen the Phoenix.

He crept into the house when the Giantess was occupied and hid within the pots and pans. The large man stomped in not a minute later, and paused.

"Olympe! It's the smell again! That of an Englishman!"

"Too right," Severus muttered, smirking.

The giant and giantess ran to the stove to look inside, both disappointed with the emptiness of it. "I'll catch that little bugger if it's the las' thing I do," Hagrid grumbled solemnly, "Now, dinner woman!"

Severus watched as, after dinner, the giant reached out to a nearby cabinet and pulled from it a golden harp. What was interesting about this harp was the fact that there was a woman on it, in flowing robes. Severus blinked when he realized it was Hermione. She was scowling, her arms folded in protest, but quivered in fear when the giant roared at her to sing, and commenced to sing in a beautiful, if fearful, voice.

"T-twinkle, twinkle, little, ah, star …" She obviously didn't remember much of the lines, for she hummed the rest of the song, but the Hagrid didn't seem to mind. In fact, he was asleep, something that Severus would be taking advantage of really soon. He crawled out from the dusty pots and pans, swiping half-heartedly at the dust on his clothes, before making his way to the table.

When Hermione saw him, she stopped singing and grinned widely, "Thank heavens! I don't think I could have remembered another song, and this loaf gets easily bored." She allowed him to pick her up, and he started to descend the table and chair carefully.

"Aaachoo!" Her sneeze echoed slightly through the kitchen. The giant snorted, but didn't wake. Both Severus and Hermione sighed in relief, but after descending a bit more, Hermione had an attack of wheezing that couldn't be covered. Hagrid woke up just in time to see Severus running out the door with his harp. He roared in anger and stood, both the table and chair crashing to the side. He moved the furniture out of the way of the door and took off after the thief.

Severus was running at his fastest speed. He didn't know if he could actually die while in the fairy tales, but he didn't really want to find out. Thankful for the slight lead, he started climbing down the beanstalk, not an easy feat with the harp almost as large as he was in his hand. She whimpered and clung to his waist with her arms and he recalled hearing something as a professor about her not liking heights. He glanced up after a little while to see the giant, who had a canny resemblance to Hagrid, looking down dumbly, as if he had never seen a giant beanstalk before. Well, nobody could really claim so, but in any case, he was grateful for one more opportunity to gain more distance between them. Hermione started to sneeze again. She scowled and brushed the dust off of Severus' shoulder with a golden hand before sliding her arm back around his waist.

The sneezing shook the giant out of his daze, and he grabbed the beanstalk and started his descent. Severus could feel his movements through the vegetation, and was glad to see the ground so close. Soon enough, he was off the bean stalk, panting and looking up to gauge how far the ogre was from him. It seemed he was close to half way.

Severus fumbled around in his pockets, searching for his only hope at cutting the stalk down before the ogre could reach the bottom. He didn't know why he hadn't looked for it before. He guessed because he hadn't had it for most of the fairy tales they'd gone through. Triumphantly, he pulled out his wand from an inner coat pocket. Wasting no time, he twirled and jabbed at the trunk of the large beanstalk.

"_Sectumsempra_!" It took a few uses of it before he heard the evidence of his work, a large creaking. Minerva came out at all the noise and gasped when she saw what was coming down from the sky.

A few seconds and a spell later, the stalk gave a loud groan and started to fall, thankfully away from Minerva's house, and into some nearby empty fields. The ogre fell with a great roar to echo the beanstalk, and then all was silence as the dust settled in the fields.

Severus sighed in relief. That was close. He smirked at Minerva, who was glaring at him. He then introduced her to the harp.

"Why, hello my dear!" Minerva stared at the harp-attached woman.

Hermione sneezed in answer, and the world faded out.

A/N: This was taken from Joseph Jacob's version of the tale. If you liked it leave reviews!


	11. The Little Mermaid

Disclaimer: I only merged stories from two different authors…

Once Upon a Time at Hogwarts

The Little Mermaid

Hermione felt the strangest sensation. It was dark, and she was floating. She whisked her hand out in front of her, trying to get a sense of what was happening, and felt water flowing languidly through her fingers. She gasped, belatedly realizing that it wasn't so wise to do so underwater. Fortunately, she felt no choking symptoms, like one usually would at trying to breathe underwater. Her hand lifted to her neck and she felt the flutter of gills tickling her. She sighed. Hopefully she was truly a mermaid at the moment, and not depending on an hour's worth of Gillyweed. She had a feeling that she was too deep to reach the surface in time.

Before Hermione could start feeling her way around, a whooshing sound and a small light lit the end of the room. Squinting at the brightness, she noticed it was a glowing orange anemone.

"Wake up, sleepy-head," a sweet voice gurgled, as more anemones lit up in various colors. Hermione could finally see clearly the entire room, and its other occupant.

"Ginny!" Well, it appeared to be, anyway. In front of her was a mermaid, not unlike those of the wizarding world, with its gray-green skin, tail and fish-like mouth. The only reason Hermione recognized it as Ginny was because of the shock of red hair flowing around it, as well as the warm brown eyes she knew peaking out at her.

"Yes, yes, now get ready. Today's your day to shine," the red-head stared at her expectantly for a few seconds before scoffing and rushing to a coral-encrusted vanity. Hermione got a glimpse of herself as Ginny collected a brush made from conch shell and two mother-of-pearl combs to twine on either side of her head. Her hair looked even more wild than usual, if less frizzy, floating out from her head in a smooth, brown nimbus, swaying slightly with the water currents. Her chest was covered in a weed and shell encrusted vest, and her lower half was fused together in dark, shiny greenish-gray scales, tapering down to diaphanous fin tips. Hair fixed and a dab of unknown substance to her lips to give them color, she was dragged out from what she supposed was her bedroom.

"I know you've been waiting a very long time to go to the surface, but snap out of it or mum will deem you too unwell for such an excursion."

Hermione caught the words as she stared in wonderment at the beauty surrounding. For the bottom of what she guessed was most likely the black lake, things were very opulent. She was pulled down a hallway encrusted with glittering shells, open windows allowing various fish to dart in and out. They swam through a school of dark blue and yellow, and she giggled involuntarily at the tickle of their fins.

At the end of the hallway was a large pair of doors, spanning up at least forty feet. Ginny looked Hermione over before opening the doors and beckoning her to follow. Hermione did, still getting used to the fish tail at her lower end. She swam into what looked to be a watery version of the Great Hall, rows of tables leading to a prominent dais at the end, where a long table of important looking merpeople sat. Other merpeople flitted here and there among the tables, searching for places to sit. Most eyes seemed turned towards her at the moment, and she gulped for a moment in nervousness, before lifting her chin and swimming as gracefully as she could to the front of the room.

As she got closer to the main table, she saw a few traits in the merpeople she recognized. A third of the group at the end had flaming red hair, which could only mean they were Weasleys. One mermaid kept changing her hair and facial features, to the amusement of those sitting next to her. Another had wild black hair and spectacles, and was grinning at her. She smiled back at him, glad to see her friend again, if not in the usual way.

A plump mermaid with red hair bustled her way down from the table, and there was no mistaking that it was Mrs. Weasley. She smiled warmly and all of Hermione's nerves went away. They hugged briefly.

"Are you ready for your big day, my dear? So curious, and always searching for new knowledge, I would think you'd be bouncing off walls by now for your chance to finally see the surface."

Hermione smiled, taking in her role, "I am very excited, but I decided bouncing off walls wouldn't really help the situation."

Mrs. Weasley tisked good-naturedly, "Ever practical, as well. My dear, It will be a challenge to find you the perfect merman." She laughed and brought Hermione closer to the table. "Now, dear, remember to be careful. Those top dwellers don't know much about the likes of us, and they might get a bit frightened, so it's best to keep out of their sight. I also have another gift for you. It's a small vial of Felix Felicis. Only use it when you truly need it. Other than that, I wish you to have a wonderful and enlightening time. We hope to see you again soon, love." With one final hug, she backed away so the rest of her fishy family could hug her. Hermione looped the vial of potion hanging from a gold chain around her neck and tucked it into her vest before saying her goodbyes.

"Don't get too caught up in things, Hermione," Her mermified best friend told her, a knowing look on his face. She ruffled his dark hair playfully.

As one, they ventured out of the hall into a beautiful courtyard, and Hermione was almost reluctant to go anywhere else before exploring this watery paradise, but she didn't want to seem out of character. With a blood-red flower tucked into her hair by Ginny and all her friends waving her on, she faced up into the dark, away from the glowing underwater palace. As she swam up, a great cheer floated with her, and she smiled to be so warmly sent off. As she approached the dark, a herd of glowing fish swam close enough to lighten her way. The closer to the surface she got, the clearer she could see stars and a sickle moon reflecting deep down into the water. Soon, it was just light enough that her glowing companions were able to leave. She waved goodbye and proceeded up until she finally broke the surface. The air was chill and stung at her gills, so she ducked down enough to cover them in the water. Looking around, she saw the looming castle of Hogwarts, the Forbidden forest, and a great big ship in the middle of the lake, not too far from where she had surfaced. It was the Durmstrang ship she remembered from her fourth year. Curious, she swam to it, silent and unnoticeable, but for the rippling of water in her wake.

As she approached, she could hear a lively music being played from the boat, and figures dancing around a fire, their shadows cast on the water around the vessel. Hermione hummed along, enjoying the peace she felt. It was nice to have a moment when she wasn't worried about being hacked up by her blue-bearded husband or being thrown in an oven. As she observed the activity on the boat, she noticed there was one who was not participating in the revelry. Immediately, she knew it was Severus Snape. He was sitting on the other side of the boat from her in the darkest corner, trying his best to keep out of notice.

Hermione swam around and lifted herself awkwardly onto the side of the boat so she could peer through the railing at him.

"Severus!" She meant to call out quietly, but an unworldly shriek echoed out across the boat, making her flinch back into the water with a splash, the lively music screeching to a halt in reply. Ducking beneath the dark boat, she let out a watery giggle, half hysterical, as she realized the shriek had come from her. This wasn't a regular fairy tale. It had elements of her magical world in it, including the fact that Mermish was a language best spoken in the water, not out of it. There wouldn't be any sweet crooning from her lips above the surface like in the stories. She waited twenty minutes or so until she felt the coast would be clear, before slinking back up the underside of the boat to rest in its shadows, relieved that the music was once again playing. She would have to try a different tactic to get Severus' attention.

Slowly and quietly, she once again climbed the side of the ship, grateful that her form had more upper body strength than she was usually capable of. Her eyes peeked over the rail, only to see a pair of black shiny boots, causing a rise of terror to constrict her throat. She nervously tilted her head back to see Severus smirking down at her. Upset and mad that he had scared her, she opened her mouth, ready to verbally abuse him, but he gestured for her to be quiet.

"Ah-ah," he intoned softly, shaking his finger at her. She flushed, knowing that he was right. If she even tried to speak, the whole boat would be on high alert. Severus' smirk turned, if possible, even more wicked, and she just knew he was lording the fact over her that she finally wasn't allowed to speak. "Wait by the shore tonight, an hour after the ship has been anchored. I will meet with you there, and we can talk about this … situation."

This time they were both startled, as a firecracker burst into the air with a horrendously loud noise. No doubt it was something of the Weasley twins' concoction. Hermione had, once again, managed to fall off the side of the boat with shock. It was good she had, because there was barely enough time to dart back into the shadows as another man appeared behind Severus.

"Why the long face, Severus? This is your birthday party, after all," a voice flowed out over the water, and there was no mistaking it as anyone but Dumbledore.

"You know how much I detest them, especially when they are my own."

"Yes, yes, well, you can't always get your way, now hurry, it's time to open presents!" His voice sounded gleeful, as though he were the one opening them. Hermione ducked back under the surface of the lake so she could let out a watery chuckle.

She spent her time exploring the shore, various plants used as potions ingredients catching her eye. The ship finally anchored on the shore closest to the castle, and she watched as various people trekked back to it. By the moonlight, she noted both the silhouettes of Hagrid and Flitwick leaving the boat. After it seemed the boat was empty, she leisurely made her way across the lake, passing the Giant Squid as it came out for its nightly swim.

Hermione had almost reached the shore when she noticed a row boat swiftly making its way towards her. It was like the one she had ridden in her first year across the lake. She ducked down so that her eyes and forehead barely breached the surface, but relaxed when she recognized the swift and economic movements used to move the vessel. It was definitely Severus Snape.

Using her tail, she rose up so that her upper half was exposed, the shells and weeds of her vest glinting as water dripped slowly down them in the moonlight.

Severus slowed his rowing so the boat slid quietly to a stop beside her in the water. He then tossed something at her that she barely managed to catch. It was an extendable ear. She looked quizzically at the potions master. He raised an eyebrow back at her.

"I got it from Dumbledore as a birthday present. Let's just hope that it's water-proof. I don't feel like swimming tonight."

Hermione smirked at him before ducking back down into the water, pulling her part of the extendable ear with her. The moment it dipped below the surface of the lake, a shrill sound pierced through the water, and she cried out in agony before she had the sense to raise it above the surface again.

"So, not water-proof then," Severus' face was as close to apologetic as Hermione had ever seen. She nodded, still wincing at the after-effects.

Before Severus could continue his one-sided conversation, a loud roar rose from below the surface of the water accompanied by a mass of bubbles. Hermione turned more gray than green, and Severus whipped out his wand and stood, causing his tiny row boat to rock precariously. A large tentacle swiftly rose from the water and slapped down on the surface just as quickly, not thirty feet away. The resulting wave caused Severus to abruptly sit down before he was thrown out of his boat. It rose with the wave, and he sighed in relief. The sigh was cut off as he saw another tentacle rise above the water to slap the surface closer to the boat. The Giant Squid wasn't too pleased at the moment, then.

Severus shoved his wand back up his sleeve and grabbed the oars of his boat, heading for shore. Hermione jolted into action, helping by pushing the side of the boat in the direction he was going. It made them move faster, but it was not fast enough to escape a water monster's wrath. More than one tentacle at a time was now rising again to slap down into the water, causing waves to knife and ripple across the surface, growing larger.

It would have looked amusing from the shore, as if the monster was playing in a bathtub, but from the middle of the lake it was terrifying.

The waves rose high enough that it was hard to tell at times if they were headed in the right direction.

Suddenly, a tentacle rose before them and slapped down, clipping the side of the row boat. Severus yelled out as he was thrown into the choppy lake. Hermione abandoned the boat and dove under the surface, hoping it would be easier to find him from there. Water swirled in confusion just below the surface, making it hard to see.

She popped back up to see him twenty feet away, trying to out-swim the enormous wave heading towards him. It had him in its undercurrent and loomed over like a bird of prey swooping down to scoop him up. His yell was cut off as he was submerged beneath the smothering force of the wave. Hermione dove again into the water, heading deeper to avoid the confusion near the surface, and saw him floating a few feet away. It looked like he had been knocked unconscious.

She grabbed him and dragged him to the surface, praying that he was only unconscious. There would be no easy way to explain that the potions master had died in the midst of their fairy tale adventures to the Wizengamot, and her heart felt strangled at the thought of not ever speaking with him again.

She rushed towards the shore, not even bothering to ride over the waves, but swimming through them, making sure that Severus wasn't underwater for more than a few seconds. It was slow going, but eventually they were far enough away that the waves were pushing them to the shore, and not back out into the center of the lake, where the Giant Squid was continuing its tantrum.

Hermione sighed in relief, feeling that the real danger was over. She now needed to focus on reviving the potions master. Pulling him up on the shore as much as she could with her tail hindering her, she brushed the black hair from his face and put her ear next to his mouth. A small puff of warm breath tickled it and she felt more relieved, knowing he was alive.

He abruptly started coughing, and Hermione turned him on his side so he could expel the water from his lungs. She smoothed a gray-green hand over his back, wishing she could speak. He lay back after his coughing fit with a sigh, a relieved look on his face. Hermione couldn't help the little smile on her face as she once again brushed the hair back with her fingers. She bent down and kissed his forehead, comforted that he had survived.

Suddenly, she was aware of the sound of footprints, and dove back into the water, hiding behind a rock. She peered out to see Dumbledore and McGonagall crouched down by Snape, checking his vitals.

"Thank goodness he survived," Minerva muttered in a wobbly voice that carried across the water, "What in Merlin's name was he doing out on the lake at this time of the night?"

"No doubt collecting potions ingredients," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling as he observed the lake surface, particularly the spot Hermione was hidden behind. "No matter, let us take him to the infirmary, where he may recover."

Hermione watched as Minerva conjured a stretcher, and escorted him to the castle. Dumbledore stayed behind.

"Thank you," he called out softly over the water, and Hermione blushed, pleased at the acknowledgement. She still wouldn't show herself though. Dumbledore headed back to the castle, catching up with Minerva.

Hermione dove beneath the water, heading back to her watery home at the bottom of the lake. As if waiting for her, a school of glowing fish surrounded her once she got too deep for the moonlight. They led her back, and the view from above was wonderful. Everything was tinted blue, and the whole place was lit with various colorful groups of anemones. Hermione wondered at the magic of it all. Could she really find this at the bottom of the black lake outside of these fairy tales?

As she drew closer, she noticed a sort of festival happening in the great hall. She swam closer, and was spotted by several of the party, who cheered and waved. Ginny came out to greet her, a smile on her fish-like lips. She wrapped her arm around Hermione and led her towards one of the large windows.

"So, was it everything you wanted it to be?"

"It was quite an adventure," Hermione replied.

"Mm-hmm. You know I'm not letting you in to your own party until you tell me all about it."

"Well, there was a large ship with a party going on aboard it, and fireworks…"

"Oh, yes, horrendously loud things, aren't they? Go on."

"Erm, there was a prince on board, the party was for him."

"A prince!"

"Quite. Anyways, he saw me. He didn't seem too shocked though, until I tried to say something."

"Yes, a mermaid should never speak above the surface. It tends to scare people away."

"Well, somehow the Giant Squid got upset and started thrashing around, and the man fell into the lake. I pulled him to the shore for the others to help. They didn't see me though."

"Ah, so you saved him? What an excellent adventure! Now, let's enjoy your party, like I promised."

Hermione let Ginny drag her along and they ate and celebrated in the way she supposed mermaids did. She was highly entertained by the synchronized swimming performed for her, and the food was divine.

Later that night, she was tucked in to a large clam shell right next to one occupied by her red-head friend.

"Ginny, is there any way possible to speak to a human?" Tiredly, her friend turned over in her bed to look at Hermione. A knowing glint was in her eye, making Hermione look anywhere else.

"Not unless you were to turn into one." Hermione sat up and looked at her once again.

"Is that possible?"

"Hrrmm, yes, if you talk to the lake witch, but no one trusts her. She's been tricking the merpeople for years."

"And where does this sea witch live?"

"Not planning on a visit, are you?" she yawned. Hermione didn't answer. "I s'pose it wouldn't hurt t' tell you if you let me get some sleep afterwards? To get there, one swims out past the point where things stop growing, through a pass surrounded by whirlpools. If they are lucky not to get sucked into one of these and sent to the deepest reach of the lake, they would continue on, through the polypi fields, where weed-serpents writhe and try to trap you in their coils, past the fat snakes that roll in the mud before her house, built from the skeletons of old ships. The trip there is not the only danger. She will want something in exchange for what she gives you. It will have to be something valuable to her. I wouldn't tell you all this, except for the fact that I know you would try to find out how anyway, and end up in even more trouble than you could get into at this point. At least wait until tomorrow night to go, so I can have a decent night's sleep, not worrying about you."

Hermione complied and snuggled back under her bed clothes. She dutifully visited with everyone the next day, knowing how betrayed they would feel when they learned what she had done. She also thought about what she could give to the lake witch.

That night, Hermione snuck out of the underwater palace, with the help of Ginny, who escorted her to the very edge of their little kingdom. There was a physical division where it ended, the weeds running thin, until only clammy, gray sand covered the lake bottom. Hermione now understood why Ginny had brought along a net filled with brightly glowing anemones. They were in a part of the lake that didn't receive enough sun to sustain plant life, let alone enough light to see in. The water was degrees cooler as well, and she was grateful for the shawl wrapped around her shoulders.

"Be very careful, and don't feel ridiculous if you decide to turn back." Ginny hugged her and handed her the net of anemones, before turning back to the glittering halls of their home. Hermione watched her go, half tempted to follow, but she knew what she had to do to fulfill this fairy tale. She only hoped she would survive to see the other side of it. Turning to the barren wasteland that loomed before her, she moved forward.

It was about twenty minutes of swimming later that she started to feel the tugging of water currents. Hermione looked up, knowing that it should be morning by now, but there was no light to be found from above. She once again silently thanked Ginny for her help, and the comfort of the light she had. It was eerily quiet. She raised her lantern and looked around, but it was almost hopeless to be able to see where the strongest currents were. It was only when she looked down at the sands that she could see which way and how fast they stirred, and therefore get an accurate idea of where it was dangerous to walk. She swam to the lake floor and scooped up a mound of murky slimy sand, and threw it in front of her. Not two feet from where she stood, the grains shot around and around until finally slamming back down into the center of what looked like a very deep hole, though it was less than a foot wide. She tried not to think what would have happened if that had been her.

Deciding that being cautious would be better than being dead, she slowly tested each expanse of water before her, making her way further and further away from the mermaid palace. Eventually there was no more stirring in the water, and she could see before her a dense forest of kelp like plants, swaying slightly, but not enough to mean there was a whirlpool nearby.

Hermione swam forward cautiously. She saw something glinting white within the forest, and crept closer to see it clearly. She gasped. There was the skeleton of a Kappa, stripped and bleached, clenched in the tight, unrelenting grasp of a plant. As she looked closer, a strand of the plant lashed out, hissing, causing her to shriek in fright. The end had a gaping maw, and it closely resembled a greenish-brown eel, except for the fact that it had no eyes and was firmly attached to the ground, as well as the rest of them. These must be the polypi Ginny was talking about. It looked an impossible feat for her to get through.

After a few minutes of thinking, Hermione pulled a short strand of weeds from the small bag of supplies she carried and tied her flowing nimbus of hair down to her head, so that it couldn't be grabbed at. She tied her shawl so that it would protect her without flowing out and getting snagged on anything, and then hugged her bag to her chest tightly. There was only one chance to get it right.

Timing the sway of the forest, and eyeing the gaps within it, she made a dash towards the lake floor, weaving in and out of the polypi before they had time to do more than hiss as she passed by. They curved in to snatch her, but she managed to keep a step ahead of them, swimming as fast as she could. Suddenly, she broke out into a clearing within the forest, a great shape looming before her. Eerie green lights were glowing from what appeared to be old ship windows, Framed by ships once as regal as the Durmstrang ship. It was beautiful and terrifying.

The green light cast itself onto the ground around the building, illuminating the wriggling forms of more eel-like creatures in the sand around it, though these were in no way attached to the floor as the polypi were.

"Hello, young one," a voice as cold as her surroundings called out from the shadows of the house. Hermione squinted but could see nothing in the near darkness. "Come closer, they won't bite. They haven't any teeth."

Her crooning voice turned into a cackle, and Hermione definitely didn't feel like coming closer. If this tale were real, the mermaid would probably never have been dumb enough to follow _that_ advice. Keeping in mind that the lake witch wouldn't kill her, Hermione drew closer, careful not to swim too close to the ground. Just because the creatures couldn't bite didn't mean they couldn't inflict _any_ damage.

"I Know what you seek," the voice continued as she cautiously swam towards the shadows, "You want to look human, don't you? Well, not many people get what they want these days, do they? Hem-hem," the witch cleared her throat and Hermione backed up in horror, knowing now who it was.

Dolores Umbrage slinked out of the shadows as much as she could with her bulky body. She was slightly reminiscent of what a mermaid should look like, but her skin had more of a grey pallor than green, her curls writhing on her head as if more eels had congregated there. When she smiled, her teeth were revealed to be pointy and unnatural, and she had dark rings under her eyes, as if she'd never slept before in her very long life. Her eyes themselves glowed with greed, and Hermione gulped, nervous at letting the witch any closer, let alone allowing her work her powers. She tried to focus on the woman's face, though, because Umbrage was wearing something that was hardly modest, even for a mermaid.

"You do want to look like a human, don't you?" the witch asked when she noticed Hermione's hesitance. Hermione nodded in response. She turned and beckoned Hermione to follow, heading into the strange house. Hermione followed unwillingly.

"I will make you a potion that you need to drink on the shore tomorrow as the sun rises. It will transform your tail into legs and change your pallor to that of a human. There will be side-effects of course, such as slight nausea, headaches, muscle cramping, a constant feeling of pins and needles in your legs when you walk on them and pain not unlike a Cruciatus curse when the potion turns your tail to legs. Do you think you can handle that?" Hermione nodded her consent.

"Remember, once you turn human, you can never come back. Your friends will be lost to you, and you will never be able to see your beloved palace again."

The lake witch sounded quite bitter about the palace, and Hermione wondered if that were because she lived in such a worn-down depressing home instead of there.

"Now, there is a stipulation for this potion. You have only three days to make it permanent. For you to be forever human, you'll need to marry this prince. With the words, 'I do,' you'll be forever human, but if you never have the chance to give that vow, you will become one with the waters of the lake." The witch folded her bulky arms and smirked, her thin frog-like mouth stretched wide, "Hem-hem. Now, let's talk about what you will give me. What do you have to offer?"

Hermione debated in her mind for a moment, before pulling out the tiny vial of Felix Felicis. The glinting gold light reflected in the witch's greedy eyes as she realized what it was.

"That will do," She replied as she quickly snatched the potion, vial and chain, from Hermione's hand, "A potion for a potion. How appropriate. Hem-hem." She looped the chain around her neck and stuffed the vial down into her bounteous cleavage. Hermione was glad, as it detached any regret she had at giving it away. There was no way she wanted it back now!

"Now, about that potion …" Umbrage shuffled over to a corner, where a cauldron sat over a banked fire. How there could be a fire in the water amazed Hermione, but she watched as, with a wave of her wand, the lake witch brought the fire high enough to lick the sides of the cauldron. She then grabbed what looked to be a bunch of water snakes tied in a knot, and scrubbed the insides of the cauldron.

"Cleanliness is a good thing." Hermione chose not to comment, turning green. Umbrage then pricked her breast and let a thin line of black blood drip into the cauldron. Hermione turned away at that. There was no way she wanted to know what she was drinking in a few hours.

After a few minutes, Umbrage brought her over to see the finished potion. It was clear and glittery, almost like Veritaserum, but with a pearlescent sheen not unlike a love potion. Hermione was grateful it didn't look like the sludge-like Polyjuice potion she made her second year at school. She would have never drunk it then.

"If the polypi give you any trouble on your way back out of here, just sprinkle a bit of this on them and they'll shrivel right up. Don't use more than a few drops though."

Hermione nodded and thanked the witch before leaving her house. As she approached the forest of polypi, they shrank back from her, as if sensing the potion, even without eyes. Hermione traveled safely through to the other side. She slowly made her way to the other side of the whirlpools, and swam on until she was in sight of the palace. It was not lit as brilliantly at the moment, and Hermione figured that it was night time again.

If she returned to the palace and told them her plans, there was no way she would be let go to accomplish them and finish out the fairy tale. She settled for whispering a last goodbye, before swimming up into the darkness. There were no glowing fish to light her way this time, and she swam up through it for so long that at times she wondered whether she were really swimming up. Finally, she saw the tell-tale twinkle of stars, and a sliver of moon through the murkiness, and sighed in relief. Even a mermaid could get tired of swimming after a while.

When she broke the surface, everything was quiet, but for the typical night noises one hears when living by a forest. She swam back to the very shore she had left the potions master, noting the tracks made dragging him up to shore. She hoisted herself up onto the sand and dirt until she reached grass, ignoring the discomfort of the pebbles digging into her sides on the way. She sat up for a while, taking everything in, from her scaly tail, to the fact that dawn would arise in less than an hour. It would be best to take the potion then.

She pulled it out of her satchel and stared. It twinkled more brightly above the surface, almost as if she had her own star in the palm of her hand, plucked from the sky on a whim. Pulling the cap off and closing her eyes, she drank it as the first rays of light crossed the sky. Instantly there was a pain not unlike a severe casting of the Cruciatus Curse on her lower body, and she cried out before promptly going unconscious.

Feeling the warmth of the sun, Hermione moved to stretch, but paused immediately at the pain. Her muscles were stiff from trying to hold back the pain of the potion, and her head felt as if it carried its own drum set plus drummer. She cracked open an eye to see a pair of coal-black eyes staring right back at her. She blinked and looked down, flushing at finding herself half naked. She painfully curled her knees into her body, hoping he had not seen much.

"Here," he said gruffly, and thrust a black cloth at her. It was his teaching robes. She almost sniggered. She doubted anyone had ever worn them before but the man himself. "I'm guessing you're in severe pain right now, considering the permanent transformation of half your body. You will have to rely on my … care." This last bit came out awkwardly, as if he'd never used the word. Hermione grimaced as he tucked an arm beneath her sore legs and another at her back before lifting her from the ground. Every step he took held a slight jolt of pain, and she almost passed out again, but gritted her teeth against it. She wouldn't be dead weight.

"Are you alright?" He asked, halfway to the castle.

She opened her mouth to say she was, as much as could be expected, but a mermish shriek erupted forth, scaring them both into jumping a bit. She scowled. The witch had tricked her! Looking back on their conversation, Umbrage had said she would look human, but not that she would be able to speak like one. She held herself back from cursing, for the cacophony it would raise would cause unwanted attention. She settled for a huff.

"I'm guessing conversation over dinner will be a bit stilted," Severus Snape remarked, eyes gleaming down at her, and she struggled to keep the scowl on her face. He turned serious, "You do realize I know nothing about this particular fairy tale. I wasn't exactly brought up on them. That makes your lack of conversation, for once, a disadvantage."

Hermione resisted pulling at her hair in frustration. She already knew how the tale would end. It was best that the man stayed clueless.

The two of them enjoyed the next few days as much as they could, seeing that Hermione was mute and couldn't quite communicate, and what she could, she didn't want to. Severus was starting to get impatient by the third day, and Hermione was more anxious. Would she really move on to the next fairy tale, or would she turn into sea foam, like the story said?

Either way, she was determined to distract her Professor until then. It would only be until dawn.

Severus seemed to pick up on her melancholy mood, and abruptly stopped being so edgy, thinking it was the source of her feelings. She allowed him to think so, and they had a lovely, if quiet, evening in the Hogwarts library. They stayed until they both fell asleep, for the library did not close overnight during the summers at Hogwarts.

Hours later, Hermione woke from a pleasant dream. She stirred, realizing she was still in the library on a sofa. She craned her head to see that Severus Snape had fallen asleep as well, still sat in his chair, but his head slouched to the side, black hair obscuring his features. Hermione quietly stood and padded over to him, ignoring the pain of every step. She paused before him, debating, before reaching out and brushing his hair out of the way.

Severus looked as peaceful as he ever had, his face relaxed and worry lines softened. Hermione bent down and kissed his forehead lightly before straightening and turning to leave. She could tell from the windows that the sky was beginning to lighten, and knew she should be at the lake before the sun crested. She made her way through the quiet halls, a slight tension in the air, as if the very magic of the place was waiting for dawn to creep up, so the castle could shake the morning dew off.

Soon enough, she had reached the lake edge, her bare feet lapped by the chilly water. She closed her eyes, hoping for the best, and felt the first rays touch her with warmth. She knew no more.

A/N: Whew! That was a long one! I took it from the original story of the little mermaid, written by Hans Christian Andersen, and, funny fact, the prince has coal-black eyes in his version as well. I guess it was meant to be. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it, and make sure to review!


	12. Little Red Riding Hood

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the original stories.

Once Upon a Time at Hogwarts

Little Red Riding Hood

Severus groaned as he woke up. He didn't feel too good. He looked around, surprised not to find himself at Hogwarts anymore, but in the middle of the woods. If this was a replay of Hansel and Gretel, he would not be pleased.

Scowling, he stood up, using a nearby tree for support. He shook his head and scratched behind an ear, hoping the dizziness would go away. He stiffened when he heard the rustling of underbrush nearby. In moments, he had dropped down to all fours in a crouch. Questioning why his body would do such a thing, he shrugged it off and listened for where the noise was from. It was coming from the left, as if someone were walking his way. He quickly hid himself in some conveniently placed underbrush and waited to observe.

He glimpsed red at first, the fluttering of a cloak. Then the bushy brown curls he would recognize anywhere. It was Granger.

A light gust of wind blew by, flirting with her clothes and hair, and he caught her scent. It was a nice blend of parchment, flowers, and … cauldron cake? His stomach growled fiercely with hunger, loud enough that the woman in red stopped, right in the middle of the clearing. She clutched a basket close to her, tense.

Trying his best not to frighten her, he stood from the underbrush.

"Granger," he called, and noticed his voice fairly growled out her name. Maybe he was catching something. Either way, the young woman shrieked and spun around, the hood of her cloak falling, leaving her abundant hair to spiral out in untamed glory. Severus blinked when he found himself wanting to pet it. Something was _very_ wrong.

"Oh, it's you," she panted in relief. Severus just raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you wearing those ridiculously flashy robes while wandering through the woods? Anyone could target you as their next prey," He said gruffly, stalking over to her. He fairly loomed over her at two feet's distance.

She glanced up at him, tilting her head, "You must not be very familiar with this tale either. It's Little Red Riding Hood, hence the red."

Severus growled at her tone, causing her to raise her eyebrow.

"You must be the big bad wolf." He glowered at this, but some of his symptoms were explained by it.

"And how," he said grudgingly, "does this story go?"

Hermione seemed to ponder this for a minute, making Severus unreasonably annoyed. It appeared his temper was quite inflamed by this role.

"I suppose it depends on the version. In one, the wolf gets away with eating the grandmother and little red riding hood, and in another, a huntsman comes, cuts them out of his belly, and replaces them with stones. I'm not quite sure which version I would prefer."

Since when had children's stories been so violent? Severus growled again. It seemed to come naturally to him in this state. It made him feel like he was bloody Lupin on a full moon.

"Anyways, I'm on my way to grandmother's house to deliver some goodies, and you get there before me, eat grandma, dress in her clothes, and fool me until you have the chance to eat me as well. I suppose we'll just go along with whatever happens and see what comes of it."

Severus couldn't see how she could be so calm about possibly dying. He supposed they had come through most of the other fairy tales alive, even if he didn't have a clue half the time of what he was supposed to do. He really didn't have an appetite for human beings though, even in the role he was playing. But those cauldron cakes … thank goodness she didn't know they were his favorite.

"I'm sure if you just head that way, you'll find the house. I'm supposed to get distracted by something on the way- ooh! Is that an _Anthocharis cardamines_?"

Severus watched, amused, as she proved herself correct without realizing it. After watching her cautiously follow the butterfly for a few seconds, he turned and headed in the direction she had pointed out, a smirk on his face.

After a few minutes, he'd arrived at the cottage. It looked vaguely like Hagrid's hut. He debated whether to knock on the door or just burst in. Knowing how crazy fairy tales could get anyway, he decided on knocking.

"Who is it?" a woman's voice floated out from the other side. There was no mistaking it to be Molly Weasley. Severus gulped. The woman was a known harridan.

"It's me, riding hood, come to deliver some food," he adopted a falsetto voice that didn't really blend too well with the growl he had acquired. He held his breath, hoping the woman would believe an imposter.

"Oh, well come on in!"

Severus smirked that he could fool the woman who raised the Weasley Twins. Yep, he still had it. He twisted the door knob and peered around it, seeing a woman lying on a bed in the one room cottage. She was currently turned the other way, much to his relief. He still didn't want to eat her though. Looking around, he noticed a closet. That could be handy. Yes, he would go with the closet then.

"Well dear, won't you come closer so I can see you? I'm afraid I've misplaced my glasses."

Severus decided not to waste any time. Who knows how long Granger could be distracted by a butterfly. He swiftly approached the bed and pulled back the covers, yanking the woman out and tossing her in the closet before she could get more than a startled yelp out. He winced at the loud thump she made, and all was silent within. Hopefully he hadn't done any lasting damage. He was pleased to see that the closet had a lock. He turned it and pocketed the key. Now, to find some clothes.

By the time a knock was heard at the door, Severus was in full disguise, and very grateful for the large quilt that hid the most appalling nightgown he'd ever seen. If Granger actually saw it, he might die of humiliation. The cap that went with it couldn't really be hid from her view. He settled for not looking in the mirror and practicing self-denial. No, he wasn't wearing one of Mrs. Weasley's nightgowns and frilly lace caps.

"Who's there?" He growled, before remembering that he was supposed to sound like the grandma, who was currently knocked out in the closet. He hoped she didn't remember this once they were out of this book.

"Its red riding hood, at your service, _grandma_," he could hear the sarcasm, even filtered as it was through the door, "I've brought you some cauldron cakes."

"Come on in," Severus tried the falsetto once again and winced at his own voice. Only a complete idiot would believe it was their grandmother.

He saw her open his door and tucked himself deeper into the covers. No way was she going to see what he was wearing.

"Bring the cauldron cakes here," he said, his voice cracking. He managed to reach his hand out without too much of the ruffles on the nightgown showing. He felt the small basket being placed in his hand, and his stomach growled once again with impatience. He tucked the basket under the blanket with him and started munching, finally happy.

"You must be really ill, grandma. Let me see you." Was there a bit of saccharine tone in that phrase?

Severus sighed regretful that he wasn't able to finish the cakes, and stowed them to the side, before peering over the quilt covers at her.

She was standing at the side of his bed, staring down at him.

"Oh, my, what dark hair you have," she said, looking it over with a glint in her eye.

"Erm, yes, I dyed it."

"And what dark eyes!" the corner of her mouth twitched, causing Severus to scowl.

"It's the light in the room," He couldn't keep this falsetto up, if she was going to laugh at him!

"And what a big nose you have!" She couldn't hold back the smile this time.

Severus growled. That was it. He jumped out of the covers at her, in full nightgown regalia. Hermione barely had time for a startled laugh before he knocked her to the ground, but she kept giggling once she saw the many ruffles, the pink rose pattern, and the lopsided lace cap on his head.

"Quiet, witch!" He growled with a fierce scowl down at her, but it seemed to make her laugh harder, seeing her furious professor in such attire.

Only wishing for the torrent of laughter to end, Severus didn't think before pinning her down and silencing her mouth with a kiss.

Startled, she stopped laughing, but he continued, his anger morphing into passion. His lips traveled down the column of her neck as his arms wrapped around her waist and she moaned, clawing at his back. He backed away, his weight still pinning her to the ground.

"Not so funny now, is it," he smirked, satisfied at the dazed look in her eyes.

She gave him a small smile before pulling him down for another kiss, but everything blurred.

A/N: I used the fairy tale written by Charles Perrault. I hope you enjoyed it! Please review!


	13. Sleeping Beauty

Disclaimer: I only own the idea.

Once Upon a Time at Hogwarts

Sleeping Beauty

Hermione once again woke up in a room that was not her own, though it did feel more like Hogwarts than any of the other places she'd been throughout the fairy tales. There was a draftiness that all castles had, no matter if they were magical, and the walls were stone. Hermione was relieved to see more than one window in the room. Maybe she would feel less claustrophobic in this tale. She sat up and stretched.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Hermione called, wondering who it could be. The Patil sisters came in, wearing subdued brown and white outfits, very out of sorts with the vibrant colors Hermione was used to seeing them in.

"Are you ready to dress, Princess?" Padma asked, wandering over to the large wardrobe overtaking half a wall on the other side of the room. It seemed there was a routine, as if the questions were just a courtesy, not really needing an answer. Hermione wondered what would happen if she said no, but decided she didn't really need to linger any longer than necessary, if she wanted to get out of this book.

"Yes, Padma, thank you," She slipped off the bed, hissing at the cold stone floor, and quickly finding some discarded slippers not far away. She donned them and padded towards the wardrobe, where Padma had picked out a lavender and cream dress, reminiscent of something a maiden locked in a tower would wear. Parvati started making the bed as soon as she slipped out of it.

Hermione felt bad, seeing her fellow schoolmates acting as servants in this tale, and was only glad they seemed not to notice anything. She allowed Padma to dress her.

"Breakfast, Milady?" Parvati asked demurely, gesturing at the door they had entered once Hermione was dressed.

"Yes, please," Hermione started toward the door, and the Patil twins were quick to match her stride, flanking each side of her. She felt a twinge of annoyance, but ignored it.

They stepped out into the hall, and the twins once again rearranged themselves on either side of her. Hermione walked at a brisk pace, though she had no idea where she was going. She then slowed down more and more until she barely made progress down the corridor. The Patil twins continued to stand on either side, no matter her pace.

"If you tell me where it is, I'm sure I can go on to breakfast myself," Hermione spoke, trying to remain pleasant. The twins looked aghast at each other.

"We could never do such a thing, Princess! The Queen would be furious, and there is always the chance of an accident!" Parvati exclaimed as if offended Hermione would suggest she leave her post.

"Why would she be furious? And what accident, exactly?"

The Patil sisters looked at each other for a few seconds, then back at Hermione worriedly.

"Are you feeling ill, Princess? You must've heard the story told a billion times before. It was practically a bedtime story for you from the moment that cursed event happened!" Padma replied.

"Oh, yes, the cursed event," Hermione replied quickly, though she had no idea what the girls were talking about. They were looking at her as if she should be seeking medical attention, and her answer pacified them.

"Yes, Princess, so you see why we need to be in your presence at all times," Parvati said, as if checking to see if the witch was truly alright.

"Quite," Hermione retorted, put out that she wasn't to glean anymore information from the girls without looking very suspicious.

They continued on to the dining hall, looking very reminiscent of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, except for the fact that she was led to the head table. In the middle seats were Molly and Arthur Weasley, and Hermione sighed in relief, glad Lavender wouldn't be her mom in this story. That was just too weird. She sat beside Mrs. Weasley, who smiled at her and patted her hand. The Patil sisters hovered in the background, behind her chair.

"How has your day been, my dear? Nothing unusual happen?" Hermione noticed a shrewd look in the woman's eye, as if she were checking for any tell-tale signs of injury.

"No, nothing unusual," Hermione replied, deciding to not mention the Patil twins and their penchant for following her everywhere she went. That was one thing she'd have to change, or she'd go batty.

"Good to hear," the matron replied, turning back to her meal.

After breakfast, Hermione wandered the castle, Patil sisters in tow, searching for an escape. They ventured through the dungeons and climbed through the towers, and Hermione noticed the twins starting to show just how worn out they were. She hid a smile and continued onward. Soon, they were dragging behind, and Hermione quickly turned a corner and ducked behind a statue, pressing herself against the wall. To her surprise, it gave in on her, and she stumbled through into an abandoned room, full of junk. She looked back to where she had come from and saw light filtering through a crack in the wall. The wall must have swiveled, sending her through a secret passage-way. It only led to the one room, but she was ok with it, even if there were layers of dust over everything.

Hermione peeked out of the crack to see the Patil sisters running down the corridor in a panic, calling out for her. She felt bad, but more relieved, grateful to finally have some time to herself. She turned back to the room and decided a bit of exploring wouldn't hurt. Maybe she'd find a really old book.

Nymphadora Tonks was a very clumsy fairy. She often misplaced her wand, and very often made people frustrated with what 'blessings' she bestowed upon them. She was very good at fixing mistakes though, even if they were made by her in the first place.

One of her proudest moments as a fairy was being able to thwart a curse cast by none other than Bellatrix, Her rival and relative. Of course, the woman this curse was afflicted with would still be affected, but it was less severe than Bella's intentions. Instead of dying, the Princess would merely sleep until true love found her. Bella had scoffed and smirked, once she realized what Dora had done. It wasn't that much of an improvement. How possible would it be for a sleeping girl to be found by her true love, let alone, a true love who had no compunctions about kissing a girl while she slept? She had laughed, but Dora shrugged it off. It could happen.

At the moment, she felt a tingle in her wings, signifying that her help was needed. She disappeared in a twinkle, reappearing in a throne room. The first thing she noticed was the loud wailing coming from the throne itself. She turned to see that it was Molly Weasley, with her husband standing at her side, trying to comfort her. The Patil twins stood nearby with bowed heads.

"How can I be of service," she said, startling the woman out of her tears. She gave a tremulous smile at Dora, before it wobbled back into a frown of grief.

"We cannot find my daughter, and I'm very afraid the curse has now come into effect."

"Show me where you last saw her."

The group followed the Patil twins to a lesser traveled corridor, showing the spot they last saw the Princess. Dora paced the area, observing every nook and cranny, before she discovered the secret wall behind the statue of the three-legged horse. She pushed it open and ventured inside, eyes adjusting to the gloom.

Dust stirred as she walked around the room, and she sneezed loudly as it rose. The place was in dire need of some house elf love. She observed the fresh footprints already in the dust, no doubt made by the lost princess. Following the trail led to a corner of the room, where a cobweb covered spindle lay, innocent but for the fallen princess beside it.

Molly gasped and ran to her, falling at the sleeping girl's side and pulling her into her lap. "Oh, dear, please, please wake up, my darling!" She kissed Hermione on the forehead and pulled back. "I truly love this girl. How is the curse not broken?" The woman looked up to the fairy, tears flowing.

"It has to be a more, er, _romantic_ love than that of a mother to her daughter. That's the way of curses, to be difficult."

"There must be something we can do. It might take centuries for her to wake up, and who would know her by then! Who would she know, by that time?"

Dora thought on it a bit, then snapped her fingers, "I know exactly how to solve your problem."

Molly's face looked hopeful as the fairy pulled out her wand and gave a few swish and flicks. Suddenly the woman, her husband, and the Patil twins gave great yawns before falling asleep. Dora winced as the twins and Arthur fell to the floor, having been standing at the time. She should have given more notice, but the deed was now done. Another few flicks and Dora sent them all to their beds. It wouldn't be nice for them to sleep for a thousand years on a cold stone floor. Entering the main hall and dodging the sleeping bodies around her, she stopped before a fireplace, digging out some powder and tossing it in. She stuck her head through the now green flames and called out, "Neville!"

Ducking back out, she waited patiently until the young man ventured out from the flames. He brushed himself off and straightened his hair.

"Yes, Dora?"

"You wouldn't happen to have any fast-growing Devil's Snare, would you?"

Severus grumbled and scowled as he endured the galloping of the horse beneath him. He was on a quest, but for what, he had no idea. He severely regretted not paying more attention to fairy tales as a child. He had been a bit more practical, always with his large nose buried in a book of potions or whipping up something in his cauldron. Never had he suspected he would be thrust into something he knew nothing about. This was just absurd.

The horse seemed to know where to go, so he let it lead the way, gripping the reins as though his life depended on it. It went on and on, and Severus was beginning to think he should start steering, when a massive form appeared on the horizon. Severus had just crested a hill, and the shape seemed to loom higher than the hill he rode upon, like a large dense jungle in the middle of a valley. It was quite unusual to see such a sight in what he supposed was somewhere in Scotland.

The horse continued, now riding into the valley, and Severus began to understand better what he was seeing.

"Oh, no, we aren't going there," he growled, tugging at the reins, but the horse continued on. They were heading right toward a forest of Devil's Snare. Severus grimaced, knowing he was going to have to get through that for the fairy tale to end satisfactorily. He hoped his allergies wouldn't act up too severely.

The horse stopped in front of the tangle of plants, allowing him to slip off ungracefully. It seemed to preen at itself for the good job it did in delivering him there. Severus just scowled and searched the saddle bags for anything that could help him get through the vegetation alive. He triumphantly pulled a torch, flint and steel from a pack. That would do to fend back the bothersome plant. He had his sword as well, if the torch went out before he reached his destination. He wouldn't mind doing a little hacking at the bothersome plant.

Severus ripped the silken sleeve from one of his arms and tied it so it lightly covered his mouth and nose. He didn't want to risk a terrible case of sneezing. For his eyes, there was nothing he could do, unless he wished to trample blindly into this suffocating forest. He would just have to deal with the watery eyes if pollen decided to invade.

It took five minutes for Severus to light the torch with the flint and steel, cursing the whole time for his lack of wand. Once lit, he held the torch aloft and faced the looming forest, unknowingly looking quite dashing with a sleeve ripped off, face half covered and boldly facing his adversary. It quivered as one being, and as he stepped forward, burning torch in hand, the greenery seemed to shrink back from him. He thrust the flame before him and the Devil's Snare cringed away, forming a tunnel. Severus only hoped he had enough torchlight to get him all the way through.

The tunnel continued to deepen as he walked, daylight fading to a twinkle behind him, and then disappearing as the entrance was once again grown over. Severus shuddered, trying not to think of how he was surrounded by something potentially deadly, the torch his light and life-line as he continued forward. It was hard to put so much faith in an inanimate object.

It felt like hours passed, though Severus was sure that must be an exaggeration caused by the apprehensive thoughts floating through his mind. He growled as if to scold his weakness, and the thoughts lessened to a more reasonable degree of concern. The forest was cool, a thick blanket of fog covering the ground up to his knees, making it appear as if he were wading through a pensieve, or the filmy whiteness of a patronus without form. He decided it would be beneficial for his nerves if he didn't dwell on what could be lurking beneath it.

To his delight, the fog started to dwindle, and he began to see the roots he walked upon. That must mean he was close to the edge, enough to where fog was evaporated by the sun. He wondered at that, considering how thick the forest had looked from the outside. Maybe there was a meadow within, where he could take a short break and soak in a bit of the sunshine he surprisingly missed. The man did live in the dungeons, after all.

Glints of light not caused by his torch started to permeate the Devil's Snare, and Severus quickened his pace, relieved. The specks were gradually increased until, all at once, he was thrust into the open air. He took a large breath, refreshing his senses so that he smelled more than the mass of green behind him. Opening his eyes, he discovered that his thought of a meadow was quite understated. There before him loomed a great castle, reminiscent of Hogwarts, but for the fact that there was no lake nearby or gates to close it off from outsiders. Who would need gates around here anyway, with miles of strangulating plant between it and humanity? Severus brushed himself down, untying the cloth around his face and wishing he could reattach it with a wand. He wished to look more than a savage. Who knew what the people were like around here, considering their surroundings?

Resolutely he trudged toward the castle entrance, hoping his luck would hold out and he wouldn't come across Lord Voldemort. Devil's Snare and a non-apparition spell seemed like a few things the Dark Lord would do to his castle.

Severus paused involuntarily at the threshold, shocked at what he saw. There were bodies draped everywhere. It almost made him vomit, as the memories of some of his worst days as a Death Eater ran through his mind. Most of the people looked as if they had been in the middle of something. The open courtyard he had stepped into had a small market to the side of it, and the vendors were draped across their wares, while others lay about the street before the stands. Severus flinched when he saw a young boy lying face-down in the middle of the street, his long black hair covering his face. He held back the impulse to move the hair aside to verify it wasn't his young self. It seemed as if the whole place had been hit with a wide-spread _Avada Kedavra_, and no one had been the wiser.

Forcing his body to cooperate, he strode to the nearest body, a young woman. As he drew close, he realized that some things were off. Her body wasn't stiff with rigor mortis, and her face seemed peaceful, as if dreaming. Kneeling beside her, he reached out a trembling hand to feel her neck for a pulse. He jumped in shock when his touch revealed her skin to be warm, a slow but steady pulse beating beneath his fingertips. The woman was asleep! He pulled his hand back, not wanting to disturb her slumber, but, wasn't it quite odd for her to be sleeping in broad daylight, as well as the dozens of others around her?

His eyes narrowed. Something fishy was going on, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. He lightly tapped the girl's shoulder, but there was no reaction. He cleared his throat loudly. Nothing. Resorting to rudeness, he shook her shoulder vigorously, but there was no stir of her features from the sleep she was seemingly trapped in. Severus growled in frustration.

He stood up and, feeling slightly foolish, as he rarely ever raised his voice, he called out, hoping to receive an answer and get some explanation for this strange place. Only the echo of his voice quietly responded, and he scowled. He turned to the castle. Hopefully the problem would be lying within. He snorted at the pun. Maybe he'd find Hermione in one of the rooms, so absorbed in a book that she hadn't taken the time to return his call.

Up and down the corridors and in the rooms he looked, finding everyone to be asleep, and no one to be his know-it-all assistant. Dissatisfied with the lower floor's search, he continued, searching the floors above. It wasn't until he reached the Astronomy tower's highest room that he found her. There, lying on a bed, far more dignified and beautiful than she should look, lay Hermione. Severus pulled back the curtain and cleared his throat. She didn't respond. He sat down at the edge of the bed and took her hand, giving himself the excuse that he was feeling for her pulse, though his hand curled around her fingers rather than her wrist. Her skin was warm and soft, and he was relieved to find she was not dead either. She was also asleep as well.

He looked down at her face, wondering what he should do. He'd never thought she wouldn't be lucid enough to help him get through all the stories. She had been there with him for almost every step, unaffected in mind the way the others had been, mindlessly fulfilling the requirements of the story. In fact, if it weren't for her, Severus knew there was no way he could have gotten through all the things he had, let alone enjoy the journey. Yes, he had enjoyed these little adventures, learning things he'd not been inclined to before from the young woman now lying oblivious to him on the bed.

He stared into her face longer than he had let himself before, now that he could do so without seeming rude or creepy. Her brows were expressive, the same medium brown as her vivaciously curling hair. Her nose was pert and button-like, tipping up at the end. Her face was heart-shaped, and he noticed a light smattering of freckles dotting close to the bridge of her nose. Her lashes were dark, and seemed like such a fragile and gentle feature on someone so bold and outspoken. Her lips were small but full, a pink a few shades darker than her peachy complexion. All-in-all, Severus realized there was nothing to criticize. He knew well by now the eyes behind those fragile lids, a honeyed brown with dark flecks and a ring of dark brown around the iris. They were warm, sometimes fierce, mostly determined.

Severus sighed. It seemed the fairy tales were pushing them together. Severus found he didn't quite object so much anymore. Yes, she was his student, and yes, he was quite a bit older than her, but her maturity, vivacity and forthrightness charmed him. It seemed he had a weakness for brilliant Gryffindor women.

He gently lifted her pale hand, small in the grasp of his own, all the while continuing to stare at her face.

"Thank you, Hermione," he whispered, before bringing the hand to his lips and gently pressing a kiss to the back of it. Her eyes fluttered, and for a second, Severus thought he was seeing things. They fluttered again, and her eyes blinked open, unfocused, before she recognized him. A deep blush flushed her face, and Severus realized he had leaned closer at the sign of movement, and was now inches away. The very tips of his cheekbones burned a ruddy red, contrasting the paleness of the rest of his face.

Before they could say a word, the world fizzled out.

A/N: I hope you liked this chapter. The original fairy tale was written by the brothers Grimm. Make sure to review!


	14. Rumpelstiltskin

Disclaimer: I don't own the original stories or characters.

Once Upon a Time at Hogwarts

Rumpelstiltskin

Once the haze fell away, Hermione heard shouting, and looked to her left, only to see Ron gesticulating with a red face, obviously very angry. She turned to see the cause of his problem, in the form of Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy sneered, "My daughter comes from a line far more wealthy and pure than yours. There is no question that she is the better match." He gestured to his daughter, a rather smug looking Pansy Parkinson.

"Only if she were to wear a permanent glamour. Someone might mistake her for the king's stable hand," Ron shouted back, and Hermione finally noticed that there was another person in the room. Severus Snape was sitting on a throne, looking highly amused. "Plus," Ron continued, "Hermione's got brains!"

Hermione blushed once she understood the implications of what was going on. Each was trying to get the king to marry their daughter. She supposed being Ron's daughter wasn't as twisted a relationship as it could've been.

"Pansy can brew the Drought of Living Death," Malfoy retorted, and Hermione caught the disbelieving look Pansy gave him. She smirked. No way could Pansy brew that unless the Potions Master helped her at every step, and he was currently the king they were vying for, so that wouldn't be happening.

Hermione saw Ron's ear tips grow red, and knew whatever came out was going to be a bold-faced lie.

"My daughter can brew a potion that will turn anything it touches to gold!" There were raised eyebrows all around.

Finally, Severus intercepted, before things got really ludicrous, "If you claim these things, I suggest a little … competition. Your daughters will each be put in a room with what ingredients they might need, and attempt the potion. Whoever succeeds, I will take their hand in marriage. If neither succeeds, I will not marry either of them, and search else-where."

Both Malfoy and Ron were looking pale. They seemed to have dug their own holes.

Severus led them down a corridor, the two pairs following reluctantly. Malfoy was whispering quickly to Pansy, no doubt trying to instill in her exactly how to make the Drought of Living Death. Pansy was concentrating, but Hermione doubted she could remember all the minute steps required for such a delicate potion. It would probably end up becoming some sort of deadly poison.

Next to her, Ron was quiet and pale. As Severus gestured to the room she would be in, he gave her a pat on the shoulder and a look she supposed was meant to be encouraging, but looked more melancholy.

Hermione stepped into the room and heard the door close behind her. It appeared to be some sort of Room of Requirement, though it wouldn't provide her with anything gold. No, that would be too easy. Hermione started to brainstorm, trying to get her mindset into that of a true alchemist.

Four hours and as many failed potion attempts later, Hermione sat on a squashy chair reminiscent of something from the Gryffindor common room and cried. She didn't like to fail in the first place, but if she didn't figure out what to do, they'd never get out of this book.

Suddenly, there was a familiar pop across the room from her, and Hermione lifted her teary gaze to see her possible ticket out.

"Dobby," she exclaimed in happiness, remembering how the House-Elf had helped Harry with the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

"Why is you crying, Miss," Dobby questioned, his ears flattened as if afraid he might have offended her. He was already looking eagerly around for something to punish himself with.

"Oh, no, I was just frustrated. I'm so happy that you're here!"

The elf's ears lifted at this, and a thin smile stretched wide across his brown face. "Anything Dobby can help the Miss with?"

Hermione explained her predicament.

"If you help me, I'll make you a hat out of golden yarn," she gave the incentive, and the elf's whole body seemed to shiver with excitement. He winked out without a reply.

Hermione had to suffer two hours of ignorance as to what Dobby was doing. She filled it with reading the various books the room provided her with, though she was too distracted to soak in much of what she read.

Dobby popped back into the room and Hermione looked up eagerly, only to see his ears drooping.

"Dobby is sorry, Miss, but he can't find potion. Dobby can use House-Elf magic to turn things gold," he offered. Hermione smiled. She'd do anything to turn something to gold. She thought hard about what she wanted, and a pile of multicolored yarn appeared.

"If you could turn this to gold, I'll be able to make you a hat and have enough to show the king."

Hermione wasn't afraid about whether he would demand to know how to make the potion. She wouldn't give it to him. As of now, it was the only incentive holding him to her, as, with the recipe, he could brew it himself with no need for her. Not that there'd be a potion to brew. Hermione snorted. It would be fun to give bold face lies to the Professor.

With a snap, Dobby turned the yarn to gold, and Hermione got started on his hat.

The next day, four astonished onlookers stared at the small pile of golden yarn. Ron's eyes bulged out of his head in disbelief before he gave Hermione a hug and whispered that he knew she could do it.

Severus picked up a string and peeled back the different threads, making sure it really was all gold. Draco and Pansy just scowled in the doorway. It was obvious they hadn't had as much luck. Hermione almost felt guilty. Almost.

After examining the thread, Severus looked at her, "And the formula for this potion?"

"I'm afraid I'm unable to share it, for my own interest, your Majesty," Hermione replied respectfully, and Severus' expression was a cross between anger and pride that she had thought things through.

"I see. Well, we'll just have to see if you can replicate the results at a larger scale than what you have produced today. I would like to see three times as much golden yarn by tomorrow morning." With that, the Potions Master left, and Hermione huffed in irritation. Ron gave her a sympathetic look and a pat on the back before leaving, and Draco and Pansy had been long gone by then. Hermione sat back down on her chair and glanced about the room. It looked like it was back to square one. Hopefully Dobby would answer when she called.

He did, listening as Hermione explained her new predicament. She produced the correct amount of yarn for the king's wishes, plus extra to make Dobby a pair of golden socks with. The House-Elf could not deny such an inducement.

The next day was very much like the previous one, Severus trying not to show that he was impressed.

"Now, there will just be one final test, to figure out whether it's not just yarn that you can turn golden. Turn this cauldron golden," He gestured at a large cauldron in the corner of the room. Hermione grimaced, but nodded.

Later that night, Dobby stared at the large cauldron nervously.

"Dobby has never tried his magic on a cauldron before, Miss. I is not sure it is possible."

"I understand, Dobby, but could you try? What can I give you to repay this?"

Dobby's eyes shifted nervously about the room, before settling them on Hermione's dress.

"Dobby would like … _a wand_," he whispered, half scandalized that he had spoken such things, and half exhilarated.

Hermione winced. She didn't know how to make a wand, and knew that it would most likely be a very hard process. She pulled out her own wand from her dress, Dobby's eyes following it as she set it down on the small table beside her.

"I don't know how to make a wand, so the best I can do is let you borrow mine for a day. How does that sound?" She smiled as she watched Dobby's whole body shiver in anticipation, his eyes luminous.

"Miss could do that?"

"Yes, just make sure to bring it back sometime tomorrow."

"Yes Miss, yes, yes, _yes_!"

Hermione reluctantly handed over her wand to the shaking House-Elf. He took it from her reverently, as if the slightest movement might be enough for the wand to crumble in his hands.

Lifting it, he aimed it to the cauldron, and with concentration, managed to turn it into a glinting gold. Hermione gasped at its beauty. She'd never seen so much gold in one place before, besides the one time she was able to peek into Harry's vault at Gringotts. The cauldron was given a warm glow by the light of the candles, and reflected off the walls in its corner.

"Oh, Dobby, thank you so much," Hermione exclaimed, but the House-elf was hypnotized by the wand held in his hand. "Dobby?"

The elf slowly looked up, a crazed glint in his eye. He held the wand up like an idol, caressing it with his knobby little hands, "Dobby has a wand … Dobby has a wand!"

"Erm, Dobby, you'll give it back to me tomorrow, won't you," Hermione nervously asked.

The elf blinked out of the room without a response. Hermione was now genuinely worried. She'd seen the look on his face, and she remembered now why House-elves didn't have wands, and also why they were now indentured servants to witches and wizards. House-elves had wild magics, magics that became exponentially more concentrated and powerful with the aid of a wand to concentrate them. The elves had stirred up quite a bit of destruction centuries previous, and had made a pact with the witches and wizards about the use of wands. That pact had been distorted over the years, but the elves seemed to think they needed to help the wizards their ancestors had given so much trouble to.

Hermione was truly worried now. She'd had that wand since she was eleven, and didn't wish to part with it. It wasn't guaranteed that the things that happened in this book would change what happened outside of it, but she didn't want to take any chances. There was only one thing she could think to do, and that was to make a wand Dobby would like better than hers.

Hermione thought about it. She'd never made a wand before. What would be the best core for a House-elf's wand? And what type of wood should be used? She concentrated, and a whole bookshelf appeared before her, with various books on the wand-making process, and what ingredients caused what results.

A few hours later, Hermione was in her element, surrounded by books, and narrowing down a few good combinations of ingredients to make the best wand for the House-elf, based on what she knew about him.

From examination of the different types of wood used, Hermione singled out Ash, Vine and Oak. She also decided that Unicorn hair would be the best core for Dobby's wand. Considering the elf's size, she decided to make it a smaller wand. Hermione spent the rest of the day and night experimenting.

The next morning, Severus, Ron, Draco and Pansy showed up, and Hermione was a little surprised, mainly because she had been focusing on her wand problem, and hadn't thought about the first problem since the previous night, before Dobby had made his request.

Severus examined the cauldron, tapping it and listening, making sure it was completely composed of the precious metal. He stood with a smirk.

"It appears you have completed the challenge adequately. Congratulations," The congratulations were directed to a beaming Ron. Hermione almost huffed, but saw the glint in the Potion Master's eye. He wanted to get a reaction out of her, and she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of it. She kept her composure as she was finally led out of the room she'd been trapped in for three days.

There was a feast that night, and after it, Hermione was led by Severus to what was to be her chambers.

"You won't have to worry about me bothering you tonight, Hermione," he murmured, no doubt seeing her nervousness. She flushed at the fact that he had called her by her name, as well as the fact that she was slightly disappointed.

Hermione looked up into his hooded eyes as he smirked and brought her hand to his lips, lightly kissing it before bowing and leaving her to enter a tastefully sumptuous room. Hermione disregarded the room in the wake of her fluster and dilemma. She turned to her nightstand and pulled out a box containing the fruit of the previous night's efforts: three wands, one of which she hoped would take the place of hers.

"Dobby," She called, nervous when she didn't get an immediate response, as she usually did. Soon enough though, the elf appeared in her room, as flushed in complexion as he could get, her wand still in his hand.

"You calls, Miss?"

"I know how much you have relished using my wand, and I know it pains you to give it back to me, so I decided to make you one myself."

The House-elf finally was able to look away from the wand and into her eyes, his own glistening.

"You made Dobby a wand?"

Hermione felt sympathy for the elf at his tone of wonder. If only witches and wizards were kinder to their elves …

She opened the box and he drifted over to see three different wands, all smaller in size, but more in proportion to him.

"They each have Unicorn hairs in them, and they are all slightly flexible, but one is made of Oak, one of Vine, and one of Ash. You should pick each one up, one at a time, to see which one responds the best to you." Hermione held out her hand for her wand, and silently sighed in relief when, in his distraction, Dobby handed her wand back over. He picked up the first one, made of Ash.

Nothing happened.

The House-elf's ears drooped.

Hermione smiled reassuringly, "Don't worry; it took me ages of going through the wands to find the perfect one for me. Mr. Ollivander definitely had his work cut out for him."

Dobby reverently placed the unresponsive wand back into the box before picking up the next one, the Vine. It crackled.

"Well, give it a wave," Hermione gestured. Dobby did as told, and both winced as the teapot on a tray broke, spilling tea all over it. "Well, at least that's an improvement."

Dobby put the wand back and stared at the last one, almost afraid to find out whether it would work or not. His knobby hand trembled as he reached for it.

The moment he picked it up, he grinned, waving the little wand and fixing the teapot with a flick and swish. Hermione smiled as well, though hers was due more to relief. She didn't have to give up her own wand.

Dobby gave a great smile that stretched across his whole face, eyes glinting as they glanced from the wand to Hermione and back again.

"Dobby is grateful, Miss," he squeaked out, jumping slightly with excitement.

"Go have fun."

Dobby needed no encouragement, and winked out, the room feeling slightly empty now that his energy of excitement was gone. Hermione felt her vision blur, and was grateful that yet another story was finished. Hopefully there wouldn't be many more.

A/N: Taken from the Grimm Brothers version of Rumplestiltskin. Please review!


	15. Snow White

Disclaimer: I don't own the original stories or characters.

Once Upon a Time at Hogwarts

Snow White

"Wakey, wakey, Snapey-poo!"

Severus grumbled. It was one of those emasculating nightmares again. He pulled the covers over his head and turned away from the noise.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no! It's time to wake up!" The cheerful voice grated on his nerves.

The covers were ripped from his person and he growled, searching for his wand, but he couldn't find it. He sat up quickly, ready to fight bare-handed if he had to, and was faced once again with a living nightmare: Gilderoy Lockhart.

The man grinned, his golden curls glinting in the morning light, and … was he wearing a bit of makeup? Severus scowled.

"Now, now, I just wanted to wish my only son a great morning. Is that a crime?" Gilderoy giggled, and Severus cringed. "Anyways, I will be in the throne room. Ta-ta!"

Severus watched him skip out of the room and relaxed slightly, though his senses were invaded on every side by bright colors and, ugh, little cherubs.

Wait, son?

Finding the darkest articles of clothing from the wardrobe (a blue tunic, yellow leggings and a red cloak with white fur trim; the only things not pastel), Severus dressed and left the room before he was overwhelmed.

He stalked down the hallways, his colorful cloak billowing and his foreboding expression giving him a ten foot radius. What the hell kind of fairy tale was this?

Severus entered the throne room, hoping to find Hermione somewhere around, so she could tell him what was going on, but all he saw was Lockhart, talking to his mirror.

"You are the fairest, of course, my king," the mirror said as if it had a million times before, but Lockhart gasped with surprise and pleasure.

"Why, thank you," he replied jovially.

Severus stalked up to the mirror and glared at Gilderoy's reflection in it. The king didn't notice, as he was still admiring himself.

"My, my," the mirror spoke up, "where has this handsome fellow been hiding?"

Severus raised an eyebrow and looked properly at the mirror. His hair was still black, his skin still pale, eyes black, nose enormous, but it seemed that everything had somehow changed, or his perspective might have changed, for he had to admit that he looked quite well. Severus wasn't bothered to think much of it. The mirror was most likely enchanted to make you look good. It was no wonder Gilderoy couldn't look away.

"Ah, Severus, so good to see you awake." Lockhart smiled, though it faltered slightly when the mirror continued to complement.

"You're quite a dish, handsome. If I weren't a mirror …"

Severus edged away, brushing nonexistent lint from his robes to ease his discomfort at the romantic advances of a magical object.

"Yes, well, it's time for breakfast," Lockhart clapped his hands together and half a dozen cherubs flew closer to attend him, escorting him to the dining table, where a vast feast was laid out. Severus wondered whether anyone else would be eating with them. It would be quite an extravagant waste, but then again, it was Lockhart. Thankfully none of the cherubs offered to escort him to the table.

Gilderoy ate and gave a tinkle of a laugh every few minutes for no reason other than to hear the sound of his own voice. It grated on Severus' nerves. He also tossed little bits of food for the cherubs to catch in their mouths as if they were his faithful hounds. Severus shuddered, not being able to keep down much with this disgusting display in front of him. He stood up from the table and stalked past the magic mirror as it wolf whistled at him. He had to get out of here. He didn't see the ugly glare that marred Gilderoy's boyish face.

Severus wandered through the woods outside the castle. Though frilly and light on the inside, the outside of the castle and the grounds were just like Hogwarts, and he could almost convince himself everything was normal. But where was Granger? He didn't understand what story this was, or what he was supposed to do! He growled in frustration as he stalked through the hedges and trees that grew randomly through the forest. It was just as eerie here as in the forbidden forest.

He froze as the sound of a responding growl came from the bushes to his left. The leaves rustled and Severus crouched down in reflex. Cursing silently, he peered into the gloom and found two glowing eyes peering back. Without breaking the gaze of whatever it was stalking him, he reached down and managed to pluck a branch from the ground. It wasn't very sturdy, but it would hopefully help keep some distance between him and whatever wanted to eat him for lunch.

As he raised it, the glowing eyes narrowed, and another spine-chilling growl resounded. Severus slowly crept back until he felt a solid oak at his side, and moved so it was at his back, his eyes still locked with the other creature, which started to rise from the bush, only a dark silhouette in the thick forest. Its shoulders rolled and its neck popped, as if ready for the hunt. Severus tightened his grip on the branch at his side. Whoever wrote fairy tales was sick in the head.

The creature, a bit larger than Severus, tensed as it got ready to pounce, its eye-teeth winking in the semidarkness. Then it blinked and suddenly relaxed. Severus was confused. Was this some sort of new trick used to catch prey unaware? The creature stood on its hind legs and shook its head.

It cleared its throat and said in a familiar voice, "Dreadfully sorry about that. It's not the best time of the month for me to be making acquaintances."

Severus stared, but didn't lower the branch in front of him, "Lupin?"

The figure came forward, and Severus saw that it _was_ Lupin, looking a bit worse for wear and more hairy than Severus remembered.

"There's no time for pleasantries," the werewolf said urgently, "You need to get far away. I'm starting to turn, and you'll want to put as much distance between me and you as you can before nightfall. I was," he hesitated, wincing, "paid, by the golden-haired chap at the castle to kill you and bring your heart back. He was having some sort of tantrum about not being fairest or some other poncy nonsense. How he'll think I'll be lucid enough to keep your heart intact once I've turned is curious to me, but I was desperate. I've realized that I can't really kill in cold blood though. Werewolves have consciences too, you know. Anyways, if I were you, I'd start running five minutes ago. When I'm turned, I won't know the difference between a Prince and a squirrel. I'm going to find a heart from an unfortunate animal for your replacement now, so get going."

Severus saw the twitch of one of his eyes as he resisted his more animal instincts and turned to run, branch still in hand. He'd had one experience with the turned werewolf, and it was one too many for him. Eyes adjusted to the gloom of the forest, he was able to avoid most of the greenery and only stumbled a few times in his flight. He kept up a steady pace, even varying it by splashing through streams and zigzagging, in case Lupin decided to try and track him down. As he went along, he thought about what had happened so far. He never heard mention of any werewolf fairy tales told to Muggle children, so that might be a peculiarity created by his and Granger's subconscious.

Busy as he was, he stumbled, and ended up plowing through some bushes and rolling down a steep slope, instinctually tucking himself in to avoid major damage. His descent slowed and leveled, and he rolled to a stop, pausing before straightening. He was lucky not to have run into any trees or rocks, though he had gone through numerous bushes, and his hair and clothes were covered in dirt and leaves. He brushed them off absently as he sat up and observed his surroundings. It was a clearing in the forest, with a small stream running through, and on the other side was a cottage of mismatched proportions that looked just like the Burrow the Weasleys lived in.

Severus gingerly picked himself up. There would be some major bruising the next day, but it would all be on the surface. He walked towards the cottage with relief, knowing that he would at least be safe from werewolves, if not the hen-pecking he was always treated to from Mrs. Weasley.

After knocking for a few minutes with no response, Severus let himself into the house. He figured if the owner of the house hadn't wanted unexpected guests he should've locked his door. It was cramped, but tidy. The table was set and food was laid out, but no one was home.

"Don't mind if I do," Severus muttered as he helped himself. The Weasleys would surely not begrudge him eating some of their food, once they heard all he'd been through. A half hour later, sated and tired, he searched the house, only finding seven unoccupied beds.

He entered the room usually reserved for him on nights the order conducted business at the Burrow and laid down on the bed without even pulling back the covers.

"Don't mind if I do," he said once again, closing his eyes.

What seemed like just minutes later, Severus' eyes popped back open in the pitch darkness of the room, as he heard the voices coming from the floor below.

"Someone has been sitting in Rinky's chair!" squeaked a voice.

"Someone has been using Dinky's plate!" replied another.

"Someone has been eating Grimer's food!"

"Someone has been drinking Winky's Butterbeer!"

"Someone has been using Corby's knife!"

Severus listened to the squeaky voices, trying to identify them.

"Someone has been using Dobby's napkin!"

Wait, Dobby! It must be …

Someone has been using Kreacher's fork … and it is _cleaned_!"

There was the sound of several horrified gasps.

Severus sighed. The only thing worse than being hen-pecked by Molly Weasley was being scolded for cleaning by several house elves. No doubt they would find him soon. He sat back on his bed to wait.

Soon enough, his door was opened with an eerie creak, and seven heads peeked through. They ducked right back out at the sight of Severus staring at them nonchalantly from the bed. He smirked as he heard the squeaking and squealing of the elves talking behind the door.

"A wizard! Rinky will make some tea!"

"Dinky will get the biscuits!"

Grimer will start the fire!"

The voices continued to bicker as to who would do what for the wizard. Finally, the door opened once again, and all seven house elves walked though, their eyes lowered in deference. When they were close enough, each bowed in a discordant manner and Dobby came forward, raising his eyes.

"I is Dobby, sir. Dobby is wondering what we elves can do for the master?"

Severus looked at them all, some shivering with anticipation for an order, any order.

"It has been a long day and I require sleep and safety, Dobby. Would it be possible for me to stay here for a while?"

Some of the elves squeaked, but Dobby, calm and collected, turned back to them and they whispered to each other in a huddle. Then, with nods of agreement, he turned back to Severus.

"What is sir's name?"

"Severus Snape."

"We is happy to give Sevus Snape sleep and safety, if he allows us to keep house for him, and cook, make his bed, wash, sew, knit, and keep everything clean and orderly to serve him."

Severus nodded, ignoring the fact that they got his name wrong. It _was_ quite a mouthful. He watched with amusement as the elves grinned and bobbed their heads excitedly.

Once all the excited chatter quieted, Dobby once again stepped forward, clearly the spokesman of the group.

"We is wondering how the Snape is finding our cottage? Elves is living far away from any humans."

Severus raised a brow at the temerity of the House Elf, but figured they deserved an explanation.

"I'm being hunted for no reason," he said. The Elves bobbed their heads and muttered amongst themselves.

"We is being hunted too, many seasons ago. Wizards is wishing to bind our magic. Elf magic is different than wizard magic. Wizards being afraid of elves. Elves is showing through service our wish for peace. Wizards is not hunting now. Maybe Snape is needing to show he is not dangerous?"

Severus doubted Lockhart would deal with anything logically. He shook his head. Dobby's ears drooped in sympathy.

"You is safe while here, Sevus Snape. We is keeping watch."

"Thank you," Severus replied, and received six grins in return (Kreacher was still scowling).

The next few days were uneventful. Severus puttered around the cottage, left alone for most of the day. All of the Elves had a wizarding home that they went to during the day, most likely cleaning and tidying there. Then they would all come back at night, eager to help the wizard in their own home. He sometimes wondered if Lockhart had called off the hunt.

After almost a week of simultaneous peace and restlessness, there was a knock at the door. Severus stopped his pacing, wondering whether he had imagined it. Another round of knocking and he was on his way to the front door. None of the Elves were home yet, and he didn't allow himself to dwell on how much he longed for Hermione Granger to be behind that door.

He opened it to reveal a stooped and hooded figure.

"Yes," he inquired, trying to hold back his disappointment. It was very unlikely that she would be hiding under those robes.

The crone held out a gloved hand, offering a delicate silver chain with a sunburst pendant of opals on it.

"Jewels for the Missus," the figure offered, holding the other hand out for money. Severus almost slammed the door in the lady's face. Was this some sort of prank? He didn't have a wife, let alone a lover. Then again, Hermione might enjoy this kind of frippery… It might gain him a bright smile, or quite possibly a kiss on the cheek …

"How much," he queried, his tone suspicious. He didn't want to show his hand now that he'd decided to buy it. Crones were known for charging a ridiculous price for what sometimes turned out to be a knock off.

"Not but a pittance, I assure you," she replied.

Severus bent to examine the necklace closely, trying to discern whether it was genuine. He reached out a finger and lifted the pendant with it. The moment his finger touched it, he felt a jolt of electricity flow through his body, and understood at once that the object was cursed, and he was an idiot to have not realized before. Why else would a crone be wearing gloves in the middle of spring?

Without his express permission, his body rose, arms outstretched and hair whipping about as though in a gale. He had just enough sense to see the hag whip off the cloak, only to reveal the sickening visage of a triumphant Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Ha-_ha_!" His gloating laugh seemed to echo through Severus' mind, right before a feeling comparable to the simultaneous casting of five _Crucios_ enveloped his body. He blacked out, unable to bear such pain while conscious.

Hermione grumbled as she pulled herself up onto the Threstral waiting patiently at her side. She had appeared in a clearing with no other company than the cadaverous horse. It made her panic, knowing that Severus was probably floundering, trying to figure out what fairy tale he was in. Heck, she didn't even know which one it was either. Hopefully they would cross paths soon before something dire happened.

Remembering the last time she had rode a Threstral bare-back, Hermione was leery of doing so again, even if she could actually see the creature this time. It wasn't the most comfortable feeling. She knew that, in the end, it would still be the fastest route, and so, after a pep talk with herself she mounted it. It was just as bumpy as she remembered.

The Threstral had an awkward gait that was reminiscent of a Camel's stride. Its running leap was jarring, and every beat of its wings made Hermione feel as though her heart was going back and forth between her throat and her stomach. It was definitely a refresher course on reasons she hated flying.

They had been the air for what seemed like hours. Hermione's lips were chapped, her body cold and sore from the strain of holding on for dear life, and she didn't even want to know what her hair was doing at the moment.

The sun was sinking when the Threstral started to descend, just as she heard a cacophony of sound coming from a ways ahead. She spotted a cottage at the base of a hill. As they drew closer, she could see what, or rather who was making the noise. There were House Elves, seven of them, punishing themselves in various ways. Some were banging their heads against whatever surface was near, others ripping up grass and dirt while wailing, and others rocking back and forth in one spot, whimpering, fat tears rolling down their face.

Hermione almost jumped off the winged horse before it touched down, indignant at the sight of these elves abusing themselves. If she had her wand, she'd be hexing someone about now.

She recognized Dobby first, who was repeatedly running into one of the cottage walls, falling over, and picking himself back up again to charge at it headfirst once more.

She grabbed him to stop the cycle.

"Dobby! I command you not to hurt yourself any longer! You will stop this very moment!"

The Elf blinked in shock and stared up at her with his bulbous eyes, still leaking tears.

Hermione turned to the rest of the Elves.

"I order you all to stop all this crying and suffering at once! Everyone gather around me!" Her authoritative voice caused all the other Elves to abandon what they were doing and gather near, seven pairs of eyes staring at her expectantly. "Now, you will calmly tell me what is going on here."

After much talking over each other, repeated interruption in the form of self-abuse, and a volley of pointing fingers, a horror-struck Hermione ran from the House-Elves, off towards the other side of the cottage. There she found a glass ovular dome covering a body. She snorted wetly when she saw the name 'Sevus Snape' transcribed on the top. Tears dripped from her cheeks and she pushed at the glass, but it was immobile.

"Take it off," she demanded, half hysterical. How would she be able to live with herself if she escaped the book without him? She couldn't replace his acerbic wit, his sacrificing nature, his extraordinary intellect, nor his ability to make her feel like someone of value.

The elves used their magic to remove the lid of the dome, even as most of them sniffed in disapproval. It was not fit to disturb the deceased.

Hermione looked over him avidly, hoping to see some visible sign that he was still alive. His chest didn't move with breath, and his pulse was absent. More tears came, but she wiped them away, determined. Something was off about this.

"When did you say he … passed away?"

Dobby's ears lowered, "Is being three days, Miss."

"Hmmm," she muttered, taking in his fresh appearance. She leant closer to sniff, and found that he smelled the same as he always had, and therefore, not in any way like a dead body should.

Then it clicked.

They were in a book of fairy tales, filled with stories that centered on romance in the face of tragedy. Severus was wearing fine clothing. Very colorful fine clothing. She had ended up at a cottage with seven House-Elves.

Hermione laughed in relief, earning some offended stares from the Elves surrounding, but she paid them no mind. All this time she was trying to fit her world into the conventional lines of the stories she grew up on, when all along, the most unconventional things had occurred throughout.

The story lines were definitely not verbatim to what she had read, and the characters definitely did not quite match what she had previously envisioned when young. She had ridden to the cottage on a Threstral for Merlin's sake instead of a royal steed! Of course it hadn't been obvious to her that Severus might fit the role enough to be the damsel in distress on this occasion. He certainly had the dark hair and fair skin for it!

After assuring the House-Elves that she had figured things out, she asked for privacy to enact the cure. She knew Severus wouldn't want an audience of fourteen bulging eyes the minute he woke up from a sleep he was tricked into. He also didn't seem like one who would be comfortable with public displays of affection.

After making sure the coast was clear, so to speak, Hermione took the opportunity to study his features closely, relaxed as they were in his comatose state. She had never had the nerve to do so before. If he could see her observing him, he would no doubt say something caustic to evade her attention.

Without thinking, she traced a finger down the bridge of his large nose, before smoothing his elegant eyebrows. She'd never noticed the length of his eyelashes before, nor how sensual his mouth was when relaxed. His forehead was smooth from stress and anger lines, his cheekbones high and his eyelids delicate. His features were too sharp and unbalanced to be handsome, but there was something about his looks that made him interesting, and that appealed to Hermione more than any Lockhart look-alike.

She ran her fingers through his fine black hair, slightly greasy at the roots, and giggled at what his reaction might be if she ever recommended Muggle shampoo to him. No doubt he would lambast her all the way to Gryffindor tower.

Thinking of Hogwarts made Hermione wistful. The fairy tales were quite an adventure, but she was really starting to miss being home, where everything wasn't quite so absurd, even if she did live in a castle with moving staircases and talking portraits. She smoothed her palms down the Potion Master's cheeks one last time, enjoying the rasp of his stubble, before leaning forward to kiss him.

The first touch of her lips to his sent an odd tingle rushing through her, but she didn't dare break the kiss until the man beneath her showed some sign of reciprocation. His cold mouth warmed and trembled beneath hers, and as she softly moved her lips against his, those lips moved back. Hermione hummed in contentment, feeling warm all over, and she dared to part her lips more in order to deepen the kiss.

A low grumble of satisfaction vibrated from his mouth to hers and a hand slipped to her nape to pull her closer as he took a more active part in the kiss. They only parted between kisses to breathe before reconnecting. Finally, Hermione found the strength to pull back and stay there, even as his heated gaze beckoned her to continue. He opened his mouth to say something, a smug look on his face, when something caught his attention past her. His mouth shut, even as his cheeks flushed. Hermione peered over her shoulder to see seven pairs of bulging eyes curiously watching them from around the side of the cottage. Her cheeks flushed as well.

Clearing her throat, she stepped back from the glass dome, allowing Severus to have room to pull himself out. Once he stepped out of it, there was a chorus of squeals and a mad rush from the House-Elves, wrapping themselves around his legs in an awkward group hug. He shot Hermione a look of warning.

"If I hear any of this floating around school, I know who to punish."

"Understood, Professor," Hermione said, beaming.

"Speaking of school, do you have any idea how many more of these things we have to go through?"

Hermione thought about it. They had hit most of the major ones.

"I think we should be almost finished. There is only one other popular fairy tale I can think of that we haven't experienced yet."

"Good. I've got some disciplining to do once we get out of here."

Her laugh echoed faintly as everything swirled out of focus once again.

A/N: I used the Grimm's fairy tale of Snow White for this chapter. Hope you enjoyed it! Please review!


	16. Cinderella

Disclaimer: Not mine. Too bad.

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update! This last month has been hectic, and I finally had a chance the past two days to really polish this chapter. This one's the longest I've written for this story, so hopefully that will make up for the wait. I hope you enjoy it and please review!

Once Upon a Time at Hogwarts

Cinderella

Hermione woke up to the sound of not-so-pleasant giggling. One giggle was almost a piercing squeal, while the other was more a honking snort with a breathy wheeze mixed in. She opened her eyes to see that she had fallen asleep on the hearth of some undetermined house. Indeed, her muscles were sore from the uncomfortable position. She turned her head to see Romilda Vane and Millicent Bulstrode giving her nasty smirks from the doorway.

"Look at her," Millicent growled, "Lying about like the filth she is. I can't imagine why she was ever known as a little princess. I sure wouldn't call her such."

Hermione glared at her as Romilda sauntered closer.

"I don't mind where she lies about as long as it's out of my way. It is fitting though to see her here. She used to think so highly of herself. Now, Cinderella, dear, it's time to do your chores. It's already almost breakfast. We wouldn't want dear mum to be disappointed, would we?"

She turned to leave and, seeing a bowl of peas on the counter, pushed it off. The bowl clattered to the ground but luckily did not break, though the peas spread out every which way, catching on the cracks in the cobblestones. It would be an ordeal to clean them all up.

"Oops." One last smirk from Romilda and the two girls left the kitchen, laughing in their not-so-dulcet tones. Hermione scowled after them before dutifully picking up the peas. Where was her wand when she needed it?

Being Cinderella was no picnic. Hermione worked all day, washing dishes and laundry, scrubbing floors, cooking meals and keeping the fires going. If that wasn't enough, her two 'step-sisters' went out of their way to make things more difficult for her, just for their amusement. Sometimes they would just watch her work, their faces smug.

Why couldn't her dear professor be the damsel in distress this time? Hermione snorted at the chaos that would have ensued if that had happened. Severus didn't follow orders easily, fairy tale or not.

By the end of the day, Hermione was tired, dirty and longing for a soft bed. Unfortunately, she was relegated back to the hearth. There weren't enough rooms in the house for servant girls, as her sisters said.

She grumbled and lay on the bricks by the fireplace. It was hard and uncomfortable, but at least she was warm. She wondered fleetingly who the step-mother was in this story, and entertained herself with the idea that if might just be Severus. Hermione went to sleep with a smile on her face.

The next day she woke up, annoyed at the squeals coming from the next room.

"I'd love a new dress, papa," Romilda said in a sweet tone.

"And a beautiful necklace would be perfect for me, father," Millicent said greedily.

To Hermione's surprise, Horace Slughorn poked his head into the kitchen and looked right at her. He scratched at his receding hair absently, as if he was trying to remember her name.

"Ah, Cinderella, and what would you like? I'm going in to Diagon Alley today for supplies."

Hermione thought it rather rude that even her own supposed father in this story had used her nickname rather than her real one. She thought quickly though, and a plan arose in her mind.

"I'd just like a few potions ingredients, if that's ok?"

Slughorn nodded absently and she quickly wrote down a short list for him. He looked it over and nodded.

"Simple enough. What do you plan on making, dear?"

"Oh, just a little something to experiment with," Hermione lied, already knowing what she was going to make. Slughorn obviously took everything at face value, for he didn't question her further before he left.

"How presumptuous of you to ask for anything at all, Mudblood. You should be licking the dirt from his shoes in gratitude for even allowing you a roof to sleep under at night."

Millicent cracked her knuckles as she loomed over Hermione, who was currently tending the fire.

"Now, dear, I'm sure Cinderella knows how much we are sacrificing to keep her here," a new, polished voice threaded through the kitchen. Hermione turned to see Narcissa Malfoy, resplendent in pristine robes and a fresh face standing in the doorway. Her appearance made Hermione only too well aware of the ash smudged on her cheeks and the dirt in her fingernails. She dared not snort in disbelief at the regal woman's statement. They obviously didn't own a House Elf, and so they had made use of her. Merlin knew what they would do if they had to cook and clean for themselves.

"Girls, I have some very exciting news. An invitation has been sent to us by the royal palace, welcoming all available ladies to a ball that will be held for the Prince. He is to choose his bride at the event, and it would make me exceptionally proud if it were one of you."

Romilda and Millicent squealed and clapped their hands.

"That means we must get ready! Cinderella, go find my nice dancing shoes and my jade hair clip," Romilda commanded Hermione.

"Ooh, and bring me my pink sash and pearl earrings," Millicent ordered.

Hermione ignored them for the moment, turning to her 'step-mother.'

"It said _all_ available ladies?"

The austere woman raised an eyebrow, "Yes, Cinderella, I just said that. Clean out your ears."

"And clean everything else while you're at it," Millicent muttered, tittering with Romilda. Narcissa smirked.

"That means I'm invited too," Hermione said, determined to ignore the girls. She relished their expressions of shock and abhorrence. Narcissa suddenly looked as if she had smelt something awful. She didn't mind as much at that moment that they didn't think of her as a woman.

"_You_? Going to a _ball_? In what, a dish towel?" Romilda laughed at her own joke, Millicent braying loudly along with her.

"Cinderella, of course you are invited," Narcissa said, and that cut the laughing short, "but you must understand that this will not take away from your chores. In fact, I expect you to work even harder on them if you wish to go, for I can't abide waste, and a ball of this magnitude will no doubt be several hours long."

"I'll make sure to have everything done," Hermione replied, even as she inwardly groaned. She knew the outcome of this story, and all the work she did would not make a difference in the end. She would have to follow the story line in order to get through this tale, but she wasn't above tweaking things a bit in her favor as well.

"Very well, you'd better get started," and with that, Narcissa left the kitchen, the other girls trailing behind her, shooting nasty looks at Hermione as if she'd grievously insulted them.

Hermione smiled to herself, and she was even happier when Horace returned with her ingredients. She thanked him over the loud noises of happiness the other girls were making as they tried on their various accessories and dresses.

The next day Hermione worked twice as hard at her chores, Narcissa paying close attention to her. It made her nervous, but she wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. When her chores were done to satisfaction, she turned to the haughty woman.

"I see that you have finished, but it is almost dark. You must not wish to go to the ball that much, as, were you to finish at this time the day of the ball, we would have already been dancing. No, Cinderella, you have not done quite so well as I expect if you wish to go."

"I'll try harder," Hermione said, trying not to grit her teeth.

That night, when the others went to bed, Hermione pulled out a cauldron and got started on her potion. She was exhausted, but it was the only time she would have to do this. She worked through the complicated steps for two hours before finally sighing in relief when it turned the right color. She set it to simmer for thirty minutes before she took it off the burner to cool, adding the last of the ingredients just after and watching the liquid turn from a deep red to a pale blue.

Hermione poured the potion into three separate vials and placed them in a box on the hearth before finally going to sleep.

The next day, though she was exhausted from sleep and the previous day's hard work, Hermione was more determined than ever to get her job done early enough that Narcissa wouldn't be able to criticize her.

Indeed, when she had finished, long before the sun disappeared off the horizon, her 'step-mother' only sniffed and commented that she didn't even have the clothes to go, let alone knowledge of how to dance. The next day would be the day of the ball.

Hermione worked even harder than the last day to get her chores done on time. Still, Narcissa denied her.

"Cinderella, though you have done the work I asked, I just cannot allow you to go with us. You will embarrass yourself with your lack of finery and cleanliness, and the Prince would never dance with someone who didn't know how to do so. More importantly, I'll not have you ruin an opportunity for my girls to become royalty just because we brought along someone who could pass for a street urchin. I'm sorry Cinderella, but it's a no."

Hermione opened her mouth in protest, but before she could say anything, her two step-sisters tumbled into the room in their enormous ball gowns, giggling.

"Look what we found on Cinderella's hearth, mama," Romilda said eagerly, handing over the box that Hermione recognized as the one with the potions in it. Narcissa took it and opened it, raising her eyebrows at the contents before looking up at Hermione, a pinched look on her face.

"I see now that I was mistaken when it comes to your work. It must not have been too hard if you had time to make potions as well. What, exactly, does this do?"

Hermione looked to the ground, hoping she would buy it as shame or modesty, when, in fact, she was trying to conceal her smirk.

"I wanted to make a good impression. The potion increases one's maturity. I have heard that the Prince is older and would appreciate a sensible wife, not someone flighty."

At this, Narcissa looked over at her girls, who at the moment weren't showing such a good example of maturity.

"I see that you were planning to win the prince over through trickery, Cinderella. That behavior is quite shocking. I will have to speak to your father about this tomorrow, when we come back from the ball."

"Yes, m'am," Hermione replied in a subdued voice, though she noted with satisfaction that Narcissa had slipped the box into her own dress robes.

"Come girls, it's time to go. Cinderella, as you do have the time, please wash yourself. We wouldn't want the Prince to enter our home and see you in such a state."

Hermione waited for them to leave before going into her step-mother's room. She took out of her apron two hair pins she had swiped from her step-sisters' room and began the difficult task of picking a lock on the chest at the end of the bed. She had learned lock-picking over one of her summers at home for fun but it had been a while since she last practiced the skill. Finally, after a few minutes, her hands steadied enough and she heard the satisfying click of the lock being displaced. Eagerly, she opened the chest, knowing that there must be something of value in there. It was the only place in the house she hadn't had access to during her thorough cleaning of it.

She crowed triumphantly as she spied a slim box and opened it, revealing the wand inside. She picked it up and waved it with glee, causing a few birds to flutter from its end. It definitely wasn't her wand, and only had a slight affinity to her, but Hermione was grateful that at least she wouldn't accidentally blow things up with it.

She calculated that the transfiguration of her clothes would hold for at least a few hours. If she'd had her own wand, it would have lasted a few days, but that would defeat the purpose of her objective. She thought long and hard before starting to cast.

Before anything, she directed a couple cleaning spells at herself. Although _Scourgify_ was a rough spell, because of her lack of affinity with the wand and the amount of dirt and grime accumulated over the last few days, it left her with a freshly scrubbed complexion rather than a feeling of steel wool raked over her skin.

Next, she pondered what to transfigure her dress into. Though her tastes were modest, she knew she had to go big on this one. She needed a show-stopping dress that would cause Narcissa to turn green with envy.

As for the shoes, glass didn't sound too comfortable, so an inlaid cushioning charm wouldn't be remiss.

Hermione hadn't been too surprised to find a carriage led by four large Abraxans waiting for her as she stepped out into the night. She stepped into the decadent gilt-framed compartment, eager to feel the wind on her face and the weight of responsibility leave her for a few hours time. The winged horses seemed to sense the moment she had become comfortable in her seat, for, not a moment later, they beat their powerful wings and carriage and all were soon airborne.

Hermione clung to the frame, still nervous about flying, even if she had space to move around in. The flight was smooth, and her death grip loosened enough that blood could once again flow naturally through the tips of her fingers. She was only brave enough to peek down once, and promptly resumed her tight grip when she realized how fast they were going.

Upon descending, Hermione picked out among a vast amount of trees a prominent manor, the light within flooding out onto the sprawling, well groomed lawn and gardens, glimpses of statues and gazebos apparent in the half-light.

Hermione was pleasantly surprised at how graceful the landing was, much more favorable than her experience on the Thestral, where she was almost bucked off in the tumult. The carriage door opened and she took her time stepping down from it, legs still wobbly and shoes _tink_-_tinking_ on the cobblestones.

She looked up at the mansion, an eerie feeling of foreboding rising in her at the sharp twisting of the iron-wrought gates and the feeling of austere hostility that seemed to emanate from the building. She hesitated before gathering her courage and making her way up the stairs to the pillar-framed entrance, her shoes obnoxiously loud. Everyone else was already inside.

It was time to make her entrance.

Checking to make sure the wand she'd filched was still tucked safely away in a secret pocket of her dress, Hermione lifted her chin, straightened her shoulders, and opened the huge doors. Not pausing in her momentum, she strode assertively through the halls as people quieted around her, staring as she passed by. Her dress trailed behind her and gave the effect she wanted: that of floating. She'd leave the billowing and swooping for Severus.

Speaking of, where was he?

Hermione peered into one of the side rooms, only to freeze, recognizing the parlor and immediately remembering with clarity the horror-filled night where she and her friends had almost been snuffed from the face of the Earth if it hadn't been for their dear friend Dobby.

Her horror increased at the thought that Lucius Malfoy might be the Prince in this tale instead of Severus. She prayed fervently that it wasn't so, as she'd never kiss that awful man!

"I thought you'd never show," a voice drawled behind her. She gasped and turned around to see Severus there, eyebrow raised at her reaction. She sighed in relief and smiled at him, noting that he did indeed look princely in his deep blue dress robes. He gallantly held out his arm and she took it, the last of her fear dissolving with the warmth of his body so near. He had come to be a symbol of safety to her on their many adventures. "Just in time, too. I contemplated drowning myself in the punch bowl."

Hermione smiled up at him to see him still watching her. Her stomach fluttered, but she managed to reply with aplomb, "Honestly, it can't have been that bad so far."

His eyebrow was once more raised, this time in disbelief.

"Let me summarize in three words: Trelawney, Dolores and Delacour."

"What's wrong with Fleur? She's turned out to be very nice."

"It's not so nice when a Veela abuses her powers in order to try and compromise herself with you."

"Oh, dear."

"Yes, quite."

"And, um, was she successful?"

"If you were to look, you'd find her lying on the floor of the entrance hall coat closet. Stunned by some unfortunately jealous competition, of course."

"Of course. You are by all accounts completely innocent of any hexing."

"Indeed."

They strolled into the grand ballroom, where most of the population was located, unmindful of all the people staring. He led her over to the punch bowl, containing a rather lurid orange-colored juice.

"Ah, so, because you hadn't the courage to drown yourself in the punch, you expect me to? I'm afraid homicide won't look too good on my cv. Also, I don't think orange would be a good look on you, alive or dead."

"I agree. I merely wished to inquire as to your health and whether you would wish to drink to it before one of these vicious women decides she is acting for the greater good of everyone and commits such an act on your person while I'm powdering my nose."

"Do you believe you'll be powdering your nose often this evening, sir?"

"Quite often, unless you save me from the masses by dancing with me for the rest of the night."

Startled at the suggestion, Hermione looked up to his face in search of his meaning. Such a phrase could be considered romantic. From anyone else, of course. His eyes only glittered back at her, a slight smirk firmly in place.

"I accept," she said, softly, and a little shy, a smile blooming on her face. So what if she didn't know the meaning behind it. She found that any excuse to get close to this intriguing man was good enough. They danced for a few minutes before Hermione broke the contented silence between them.

"I do have a confession to make. I'm not as innocent of wrongdoing as you are this evening," she felt him stiffen, his hand tightening its grip unintentionally. She continued, "You see, I've been treated quite abominably the last few days, and I've found that I can't be quite as magnanimous as you are this evening. You'll find out soon enough."

He relaxed and they continued their dancing, Hermione feeling absolutely incandescent at the amount of trust he was putting in her that he didn't suspect her of tricking him in any way.

By this time, most of the room had taken to watching the two of them, whispering to their neighbors, or glaring in her general direction.

"You're breaking quite a few hearts this evening, I suspect," Hermione teased. She got an answering snort.

"Hardly. More like a bunch of disgruntled, debt-laden money grabbers, hoping to bag the prize turkey."

"Ah, I hadn't thought of you as a turkey, though some of your features may resemble that of the avian species," she eyed his nose with a barely restrained laugh. He pulled her form closer to his, bodies pressed together.

"Such cheek," he murmured in her ear, said nose dragging across her cheek as he pulled back to look into her flushed face with satisfaction.

"And you're a remorseless flirt. I ought to leave you to the others," she made as if to pull away from him, but he tugged her back to him firmly.

"That won't be necessary."

Hermione smiled as he twirled her around the dance floor, content at their banter. Something inside had loosed this evening. It was as if she finally saw Severus Snape without seeing her professor anymore. He was intriguing, knowledgeable, sarcastic, blunt, resourceful, considerate, and many other things she hadn't completely put a name to yet.

She was doomed to distraction once they got back to their real lives.

Eventually, people, mostly men, grew bold enough to approach the prince in order to relieve him of his partner. No doubt half of them had been goaded by their family to remove such formidable competition from the prince's sight and, hopefully, mind. Severus wouldn't have it though.

"She's _my_ dance partner," he would growl forbiddingly at any threat to their tête-à-tête. Hermione was content to let him be as rude as he wished. The man needed some outlet for his frustration, and if people wanted to offer themselves to it, well, that was on them.

Hermione would have been quite content to dance the evening away, but a commotion on the far side of the dance floor brought everyone's attention. Severus looked over her shoulder inquiringly and actually chuckled before he could cover it with a smirk. Hermione whipped around to see what could make such an impervious man laugh.

Recognizable mostly by the voluminous dresses they had donned earlier that day, Hermione saw her two step sisters and step mother, each as upset as a plucked bird and all sporting very long and very gray beards. The combination of their fashionable dresses mixed with their aging sagging bodies was too much for Hermione, and she guffawed in a most unladylike manner. Luckily, most others were following her lead and adding to the laughter at the spectacle.

"I'm guessing this is your doing? I hope you have an alibi." Severus spoke behind her, his tone warm.

Hermione gasped as the blood drained from her face. They knew she did this, and it wouldn't be pretty when she got back.

She contemplated not going back and just staying with Severus, protected and comfortable, but that was not how the story was supposed to go, and she didn't want things to take a wrong turn right at the end.

"I have to go," she said, making her way as unobtrusively as possible to the front doors of the mansion, where her step-family had disappeared moments before.

"I'll go with you," Severus replied from just behind her, a large, satisfied smile on his face, "I've wanted to see Narcissa turned on her own end for ages now."

"No, no, Severus, you couldn't. It wouldn't fit with the story," Hermione replied, hustling her way through the buzzing crowd. They hadn't noticed her departure for the scene they had just witnessed, fortunately.

"Damn the story, I'm going to have some fun from this torture," Severus replied, following after her at a brisk pace. He seemed quite determined.

Hermione plucked one of her glass slippers from her feet and tossed it at him. It hit with a _thunk_ against his chest before he caught it and paused, looking from it to her in surprise.

"I'll see you in the morning, my prince," Hermione said with a smile, before hopping into her waiting carriage and whooshing off into the sky without a by-your-leave.

"Cheeky," Severus muttered, looking after the flying carriage with a slight smile, his thumb sliding over the smooth surface of the shoe.

Hermione sat back in the carriage seat with a sigh, even as her clothes started to change back into the ones she had worn to clean that day. Except for the glass shoe, of course. That was close. Now, she just had to hope that Narcissa wouldn't murder her for her trick on them.

It would be a long night, either way.

After a serious mental debate with herself, Hermione had decided to stow away the wand in its place once she arrived home, instead of using it to protect herself from the punishment she'd no doubt receive. It wouldn't do to add fuel to an already furious fire, and the wand wasn't attuned to her enough for her to be confident in a duel against anyone. She also took the time to hide her glass slipper on a ledge she'd found within the fireplace in the sitting room, where her stepmother and stepsisters would never care to look.

After that was done, she vigorously scoured the house, making sure everything was clean, but it had been in perfect condition since earlier that day from her failed attempt to win a way into going to the ball.

Having nothing to distract her, Hermione paced the kitchen floor until she grew tired. Then she curled up once again before the warm hearth.

It was some time later when she was jolted from her nap to the sound of the front door slamming closed. Dread filled her stomach, but she reasoned that in the story, Cinderella wasn't murdered. It would eventually get to the happily ever after. Still, she didn't relish the oncoming confrontation any better for that knowledge.

"CINDERELLA," the unmistakable shriek of Romilda echoed down the hall as what sounded like a herd of gazelle tramped steadily towards the kitchen. Hermione stood and quickly took a broom, sweeping at the already clean floor. She didn't bother smoothing down her soot-laced hair.

Her back was to the door when the herd arrived.

"You will face me, Cinderella," the cool, collected voice of Narcissa spoke out, a large contrast to the spitting and hissing noises emanating from the two girls.

Hermione turned slowly, relieved to see that they were back to normal. She wouldn't want to ruin her cover story by cracking up.

"Is something wrong?"

"You have sabotaged the girls' chances at ever marrying the prince," she replied, "And therefore you must be punished."

"But, I wasn't at the ball. There was no possible way I could have ruined anything for anyone," Hermione replied. Narcissa set an empty glass phial on the table top. Hermione looked from it to her. "The potion was experimental. I was going to try it on myself. Even father can tell you that."

Hermione resisted throwing the nasty woman's words about using potions to trick others back at her.

Though her explanation was sound, Narcissa still bade her to be banished to the closet under the stairs with no food for a day. Hermione found it ironic that she would finally know a bit of what it had felt like for Harry, growing up.

It was not long after daybreak that Hermione awoke in the dark of the closet to the sound of knocking on the front door. There was a scrambling of noise, as the household scurried to get presentable for whoever had arrived. Hermione lowered herself to the floor and laid her face to the ground in a hope of seeing and hearing a bit of what was happening outside.

There was the sound of muffled voices before footsteps were heard, the guest or guests making their way closer to the closet. Hermione saw four sets of feet, two of which were her father's and stepmothers'.

"This way, Your Highness. It is a humble place we live in, but a clean one."

Hermione scoffed. If she weren't there it wouldn't be.

"Yes, yes, it's all quite nice," a placating voice, reminiscent of Filius Flitwick, spoke hastily, "but our purpose is merely for your daughters to try on this glass slipper. Only then can we verify the rightful owner and future bride of the prince. We _do_ have quite a few houses to visit."

"Of course, of course. Let me just take that slipper to the girls. They are still getting ready for the day. Husband, if you would come with me for a minute."

They passed by the closet door on their way to the girls' rooms, and Hermione heard snatches of the whispered conversation.

"…get the shrinking and swelling solutions..."

"Yes, dear."

"…the shoe will fit if I have anything to do with it…"

Hermione smirked, knowing their chances of success using those potions were unlikely. Shrinking and swelling solutions were very hard to moderate, tending to go to each extreme rather than by increments.

Indeed, five minutes later, with much cursing, the shuffling of one of her stepsisters sounded past her closet door. She stifled her giggles as she noticed one of the feet she could see to be extremely swollen to almost three times its normal size. The other shuffled loosely around in the glass slipper, causing Hermione to wince. She hoped it wouldn't break.

"Dear Merlin," exclaimed Filius' voice, "Whatever happened to your foot, young lady?"

"It was an allergic reaction, sir. I will be fine. The shoe fits, as you see." Romilda's voice was strained in its politeness. She was probably suffering greatly from her swollen foot.

"I see no such thing," Severus' voice finally broke out, and Hermione smiled. He was no doubt enjoying this. "Your foot may be in the shoe, but it isn't a perfect fit. If you were the one I was seeking for, you wouldn't have been able to dance as gracefully as my partner with both of the glass slippers on. You're not who I'm looking for."

There was some more shuffling as the stepsister clunked past her door. She didn't go too far away, and Hermione supposed she now wasn't alone in eavesdropping.

"Really an odd family," Filius muttered.

"Quite," Severus replied.

Next, after more cursing, the other stepsister shuffled out to greet the prince. Hermione couldn't see quite what was going on, but it sounded awkward.

"The shoe fits me, Your Highness," Millicent's voice sounded out.

"I can see that you have tried your hardest to stuff it in, but it is not a perfect fit. You would have been pained the whole night if you were the one I was dancing with. As for your other foot…"

"I had a potions accident this morning."

"Indeed. In any case, you are not the one we seek. Is there no other young women in the house?"

"Not unless you're looking to marry a servant girl," Millicent gave a honking snort of laughter.

"Excellent, bring her in," Severus voice said definitively.

"But, Your Highness, a servant girl…" Filius' voice hesitated.

"I invited all available young women to the ball, did I not? There was no stipulation that she must be _wealthy_. Bring her here."

"But she's covered in filth!" Romilda cried coming out from where she had been listening.

"And she didn't even _go_ to the ball! We would have seen her!" Millicent whined.

"I _said_, bring her here." Hermione could hear the impatience in his tone.

"As you wish," Narcissa's voice answered, and Hermione scrambled back up into a standing position and hastily smoothed down her dress. There was nothing she could do for her hair or dirty face.

The door opened, and Hermione blinked at the sudden flood of light.

"You're needed, Cinderella," Narcissa muttered with a sour look. She stood to the side as Hermione stepped out from the closet and headed into the sitting room, where she could now see Filius Flitwick standing next to Severus Snape, who was seated uncomfortably on the brocade couch. She noted that Severus was still very tall compared to her Charms professor, even when sitting.

Hermione was very tempted to adjust her hair, but knew nothing could be done without bringing more attention to it than she wanted at the moment.

Severus stood from the couch and gestured for her to seat herself, never mind that her dress was extremely filthy. He let out a little smirk that only she could see when a muffled sound of protest escaped one of the stepsisters as she sat obligingly.

"Your foot, madam," he intoned, kneeling and placing a hand under her ankle to support it as she lifted it. She had no shoes on her feet, so he slipped the glass shoe on with no preamble. It was perfect.

"The shoe fits," Severus announced, and Filius clapped politely, looking confused as to whether he should be happy that the prince's bride was going to be a servant girl.

"She's cheated somehow, I know it! She's always been a filthy little cheater, thinking she's clever and too good for what she does!" Romilda exclaimed.

"The only cheats in this room have already been found out," Severus replied, causing both stepsisters and their mother to flush red.

"I do have the other shoe," Hermione said, hoping to stop the tension from escalating. She stood as everyone watched and walked over to the fireplace, reaching within to pull the other shoe from the hidden ledge. She placed it on the ground and stepped into it.

"There is no more need to question. She is the one I shall marry."

Hermione's stomach jolted, but she was ushered quickly to the door by Severus and Filius.

"Oh, what luck, Your Majesty! The king and queen will be so happy! Well, after we get you a little cleaned up, my dear." Filius patted her consolingly on her hand as they sat in the carriage. She turned her gaze to Severus, who was looking right back at her, his expression intense. She gave him a little smile and his lips quirked in return before the carriage jolted and everything turned grey once again.

A/N: I took this story and based it loosely upon the Cinderella story written by the Grimm Brothers. The next chapter will be a return for our characters to reality.


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